Shadows of the Past
by Ozzyols
Summary: A chance meeting with someone from his old school raises memories Tony hoped desperately to have left behind, and leads to events that will rock the lives of all around him.
1. Teaser

**This Fic is actually set post immediately post season 8. There is an omission of sorts… in the fact that I haven't referenced the P2P or EJ/Ray issues. It's not that they don't exist… it just they don't have anything to do with this story basically so I didn't feel the need to bring them in… Please feel free to R&R.**

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><p><strong>.<br>**

**Friday, August 19**

Judge Daniel Wolfe folded the small piece of paper in his hand and reached up and removed his semi moon glasses before addressing the foreman of the Jury before him.

"Mr Foreman, have you reached your verdict?"

A hush fell over the room. The courtroom was packed. _When wasn't it?_ But for the past week and a half, the intensity of the gallery had been… more… there was something palpable about the air.

Murder cases were never easy. They were harder still when the accused was so devoid of emotion. Sometimes it was better to have a swirling mass of emotion running through the room. It was easier to get a sense of how the act was going to play out. But this… this case had been nigh on eerie.

There was no demonstrative jeering and wailing from the distraught family. The closest there had been was some snorting and sniggering from the prosecutions side of the room. There had been more animation and emotion coming from the counsel than anyone – barring that one witness of course.

When this case was over Judge Wolfe promised himself a very large drink…

"We have your honor."

"And how do you find the defendant?"

Glancing over from the jurors to the defense table, Daniel Wolfe watched as the accused man lowered his head, steeling himself as twelve of his peers sealed his fate.

"On the charge of murder in first degree, we the jury find the defendant Anthony DiNozzo Jnr…"

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><p>Oh c'mon, you didn't think I was going to let you off <strong>that<strong> easy surely?

Never fear dear reader… all will be revealed… in due course… at the appropriate juncture… in the fullness of time…


	2. Chapter 1

**My apologies for anyone who felt gypped by the short intro I posted last night. It was always my intent to post another chapter pretty much straight away… Fair warning, this is going to be a rather lengthy story that I will try my dangedest to update at least once a month… Please understand if there is the occasional break – I work for a Government department and our peak time runs from July 1****st**** through to about September, but I promise I will do my best!**

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><p><strong>3 months earlier…<strong>

Friday June 3

"Tony, stop preening like a poppycock and come on! We are going to be late." Ziva grumbled.

It had been a long week. It was Friday night and for once they were escaping work early! For the past three weeks they had been tracking a pair of Lance Corporals who had been acting as drug mules for the Las Víboras, a small but steadily increasing street gang working the south east of DC. A major break had come the previous evening when the younger brother of Lance Corporal Tomas Velasquez had been gunned down as he tried to prevent his brother from making a pick up. The sight of his 16 year old sibling bleeding out on the pavement provided too much for the NCO who had turned himself over to Gibbs and McGee. The case was done, the reports written up, and for once, it was 5pm and they were out the door and off duty and heading to Georgetown and the Filibuster for happy hour with Gibbs' approval.

If Ziva was honest, none of them were particularly keen on the idea of fighting rush hour traffic back into the Capitol, but all it had taken was a pleading look from Abby and the team had caved like a deck of cards. Ziva smiled. Any talent she had gained in her years in Mossad to use her feminine whiles with men paled into insignificance over the mastery of Miss Abigail Sciuto.

"It's peacock Ziva… Peacock! Not Poppycock!" Tony groused from behind his desk, fighting the immediate urge to run his hand through his hair. "And I do NOT 'preen'!"

"Oh Please! You are, by far, the most vain man I know!" Ziva snorted in return. Grabbing her bag she sauntered towards the elevator. "Are you coming or what?"

The senior field agent gritted his teeth and grabbed his back from between his desk and partition before jogging the few steps to the elevator.

"Taking pride in my appearance doesn't mean I'm vain Ziva!" he muttered as the door slid open.

Ziva grinned wickedly as she stepped past him into the carriage. "No, it simply means that you think there are going to be co-ed's at the bar tonight and you are hoping to get…. Lucky". All but purring the last word Ziva was rewarded with warning look from her partner as he joined her in the elevator. Reaching up, she patted his cheek. "Aaaw never mind Tony… I am sure someone will take pity on an old man."

Tony stabbed at the ground floor button not trusting himself to answer. Sparring with Ziva when she was in one of these moods usually resulted in him coming out on the wrong side of an Israeli slap-down. Normally, the Very Special Agent would have relished the thought, but tonight his heart really wasn't in it. He just wanted to get to the bar, have a few drinks then crawl home to his apartment. Curse Abby and her Gothic Cuteness!

All day Tony's gut had been playing up… he was still trying to determine if it was the breakfast burrito he had grabbed on the way into the office, or if it was something more. Even the weather seemed to have a sense of foreboding to it. Despite it being the middle of June, the air had the oppressive feel of a gathering storm. _You've been hanging around Gibbs too long!_ He chided himself mentally as they climbed into Tony's car.

Shaking his head to clear the funk in his mind Tony allowed himself a grin. A trip into the Filibuster actually might just do the shot. Trendy, upmarket with a wide variety of music; the bar held two other benefits. One, it was spitting distance from his apartment and two; they did serve a mean steak! Oh Tony knew how to cook, thirty plus years of bachelorhood had taught him that (despite comments to the contrary), he just much preferred it if someone else did the cooking.

They drove the trip in companionable silence, the rift that had formed after Ziva's ill-fated attraction to Michael Rivkin and the pursuant fall out was a thing of the past. It had taken them a while to truly breach that fissure, but eventually it had brought them closer together as partners. Each one now certain in the knowledge that the other had their six no matter what the stakes.

Ziva gave a less than feminine snort as Tony deftly pulled into a recently vacated parking bay directly outside the bar.

"The boy's got skills!" Tony smirked.

"_Boy_ being the operative word!" Ziva grinned back.

"Hey, just be thankful Gibbs wasn't driving or we would have ended up doing a J-turn into the spot!" Tony commented as he climbed out of the drivers seat.

Elegantly extracting herself from the passenger seat and looking over the top of the sedan's roof at her partner, Ziva arched a well-groomed eyebrow. Tony took her silent meaning immediately. "Well, _I'm_ thankful! You'd have just seen it as a challenge!" Plipping the lock on the car and stepping up onto the sidewalk Tony mock glared at the former Mossad officer.

"That, would have been no challenge" Ziva quipped haughtily stepping up the curb past Tony and over to the restaurants front door.

The bustle of the bar hit both agents with a cacophony of noise as they opened the door. 5.30 and the place was packed. _Why not?_ Tony thought absentmindedly. It was Friday after all.

The proximity of the bar to Georgetown University and the Capitol made it a popular place with both staffers from the hill and students alike. Casting a cops eye over the crowd, Tony was certain that he could pick at least half a dozen under age drinkers just in the first pass. But he wasn't a beat cop anymore, and there weren't any obvious persons who fell under NCIS's jurisdiction, so he let it slide. Let a bunch of teenage drunks be someone else's problem.

"Tony! Ziva!"

The unmistakable voice of their Forensic Scientist carried over the chatter of the bar.

Tony felt Ziva nudge him in the ribs and gesture with her chin. Following her line of sight, Tony could see Abby waving frantically in their direction. They had either been very lucky, or Abby had worked her charm on one of the barman, because despite the density of the crowd she had managed to secure a table and enough chairs for all of them on the landing towards the back of the bar. Between the seething mass of the clientele, Tony could also make out the forms of McGee and Jimmy Palmer.

Excusing themselves as they weaved their way through the crowd, Ziva and Tony finally slid down into the remaining two chairs.

"That, was like running with the Bulls in Pamplona!" Ziva huffed as she removed her coat.

"You've run with the Bulls?" Palmer asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

"Twice. The first time was for fun. The second time – well let us just say that trying to pursue a suspect during the Festival of San Fermin is not advisable!"

"Cool!"

Tony groaned inwardly as Palmer's face took on that faint look of one of the kids you saw on those telethons who got to meet their idol. McGee apparently must have shared a similar thought, because from the corner of his eye Tony caught a smirk from behind the Probie's glass.

Flagging down a passing waitress, Tony ordered a scotch for himself and a club lemon for Ziva, before turning back to the conversation.

"He's a busy man Jimmy" Abby was saying… "I'm sure Ducky didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, that's right!" Tony blurted, suddenly remembering the messages he had been given before leaving the office. "Abs, Ducky sends his apologies… and, um, Gibbs…" how did he put this nicely…

"…is only interested in drinking alone in his basement." Abby supplied, a sweet look on her face.

"Well, no… that wasn't his exact words, but…"

"Oh I got the message."

"Then he told you himself?"

"Nope."

"Well then how did you…?"

Abby rolled her eyes in exaggerated frustration. "Tony, do you see more chairs here?" she glanced around the table. "I did ask them, but the chances of Gibbs or Ducky actually going to a joint like this… phhhff, please!"

Tony watched in amusement, as she casually dropped a shot glass of dark gold liquid into highball of what looked suspiciously like Caf-Pow. Tossing back the highball back, Abby consumed the lot in one long drink before dropping the glass back onto the table with combined 'thunk' and 'plink' of the glass within the glass.

"Woof!" she grinned shaking her head – her long ebony plaits nearly taking out Palmers eye.

Ziva and Tony shared a confused frown, before Ziva leaned across Tony to ask.

"McGee, what is she drinking?"

"It's called a Skittle-bomb" Tim replied, his voice low, mouth still hidden behind his glass. "You take a shot of Cointreau and drop it into the energy drink of your choice. So for Abby, that's…"

"Caf-Pow" all three echoed.

"How many's she had McSptrizter?" Tony asked.

"Four" Abby grinned. "You gotta try one Tony! It tastes kinda like when you get a mouthful of Skittles and crunch 'em all up"

"Ah, maybe later Abs"

Without warning the petite Goth cocked her head to one side. "Oooh! I love this song!" Abby suddenly said, grabbing Palmer by the hand and jumping to her feet. "C'mon Jimmy… Dance time!"

"What song?" Palmer asked looking around.

"That song, out in the back room… c'mon!"

The three remaining agents laughed as a bouncing vision in black and white dragged a very confused Palmer through the crowd towards the back room.

"How long do we give him?" McGee grinned.

"I say, three songs – then one of you two have to go rescue him." Ziva smirked as well.

Tony raised his glass at his team-mate. "That's your job Probie! I've done the club thing with Abs. You might want to gear up before you try it though."

oXoXoXoXo

The three friends needn't have worried; a song and a half later a mortified Abby helped a limping Palmer back to the table.

"Oh God Jimmy, you okay?"

"What happened Abs?" McGee asked as Palmer slumped into his chair, pulling his left foot up onto his right knee

"We were on the dance floor, having a great time when some Brunhilde of a woman in this leopard and vinyl outfit clomped through and put her stiletto straight into the top of Jimmy's foot!"

"I don't think anything's broken…" Palmer said to no one in particular as he prodded around inside his shoe. "…and I can't seem to feel any puncture site or blood, that's a good thing right?"

"Always" Abby reassured. "I'll go and get you some ice to put on the foot."

Tony watched her as she deftly maneuvered her way through to the bar.

"It wouldn't have been a problem, but I think she might have been a Linebacker for the Redskins!"

"Oh, so she was a lightweight then?" Tony half joked, his eyes still on Abby.

Leaning forward over the bar slightly so the bartender could hear her over the clamor of the patrons, Tony noted that Abby presented, well; a not unpleasing view from the… he instantly caught himself feeling the mental head slap his boss would have just delivered to him.

Tony's relationship to Abby would never be anything more than purely platonic – and that's the way he liked it. She was more like a kid sister. That didn't mean however that he couldn't appreciate how spectacular she was. And it wasn't to say there wasn't affection between the Gothic Scientist and the Agent – but neither ever feared it would blossom into something 'more'.

Tony couldn't count the number of times over the past ten years that he had woken up either with Abby snuggled in his arms on his sofa, or draped over him on his king size bed - taking up entirely far too much space, he might add – as a result of an all night movie marathon. It was nice to have that friendship with no requirement for it to be taken to the next level. It was nice to be secure in the honest love of one friend to another.

Of all the people in his life, Abby was the one who knew Tony best. Even Gibbs with that super sense of his didn't know the true Anthony DiNozzo Jnr. And while he was still cautiously guarded, even around her gentle charms, Abigail Sciuto not only read him like a book, but saw the scratches in the margins of his life and accepted them wholeheartedly.

This was the reason Tony watched out for his friend.

Lifting his glass to his lips to take a sip, a movement to Abby's left caught his investigators trained eye.

Three male patrons had taken an interest in the Goth and were preparing to make a move. Their actions didn't immediately concern Tony, He had seen Abby blow off more than her fair share of Johnny-come-lately's before, but that didn't stop him from assessing them for potential threats.

Three men, ages ranging from…? Late 30's to early 40's? Caucasian. Fit, all of them. The two dark haired individuals were, at Tony's reckoning a shade under six foot, with a similar build to his own. The blonde man however – he was another issue. Tony stood in stockinged feet at just under six foot two. This guy was a good three or four inches taller than he was and weighed probably twice what Tony did.

All three were dressed in DC standard, in other words an ensemble of suit and ties. They were businessmen or politicos of some variety, out like everyone else, looking for a good time on a Friday night.

Pealing themselves away from where they stood at the bar, Tony watched as they effectively corralled Abby where she stood. 'Godzilla' leaning up against the bar to Abby's left with his two cronies behind and flanking her right side. Carefully replacing the glass back onto the table, Tony's focus intensified on the scene playing out in front of him. Unable to see what was being said, and without the benefit of Abby's ability to read lips, Tony read something else. Something he had total confidence in, his ability of… body language – and he didn't like what he 'heard'.

At first Abby seemed her normal bubbly self. Smiling at the three men, responding happily to their questions.

Suddenly between one breath and the next the vibe took a very different mood.

Tony saw the friendliness leech from Abby's face as Godzilla's ham-fisted paw ran down her shoulder, back and finally rested on the top of her hip in a decidedly lascivious nature.

That was all that DiNozzo needed. Ignoring the objection of the other customers as he all but barged his way to Abby's side, Tony slid effortlessly in between the remaining two men, effectively putting himself up against the bar at Abby's right hand side.

"Hey sweetie!" he laughed casually; slipping his arm around her waist casually knocking the other mans hand off her hip. "You miss me?" he gave his startled colleague a quick peck on the cheek and prayed she understood.

_C'mon Abs play the game._

Tony felt his chest relax as recognition flashed in Abby's eyes.

"Tony! You made it! I didn't think you'd come?"

"And miss my main squeeze? C'mon!" Tony flicked a look up at the Blonde interloper. "Hey" he said keeping his expression calm and open, with just enough disinterest to let the man know he didn't think much of him.

A flicker of something crossed the man's face – as Tony had the nagging suspicion that he somehow knew this guy. Putting it down to a lifetime of watching faces, Tony returned to the problem at hand. Extricating Abby from these three morons.

"Where are we sitting?" Tony asked innocently, maintain the façade that he had only just arrived. Abby was a smart girl and instantly recognised what Tony was doing.

"Back up there on the landing. Jimmy hurt himself and I'm getting some ice. Ziva and McGee are minding him.

_Good girl_ Tony thought, in that one sentence she had effectively told the three that not only was she here with a 'boyfriend' but she had come with a group.

As if on cue the barman returned with a clear plastic bag full of ice. "Here you go" he smiled handing it over to Abby.

With no more than a faintly veiled smile, Tony excused them both and walked with Abby back up to the table.

As they reached the safety of their group, the bouncy Tigger-like Abby returned almost immediately.

"Tony! You're my hero!" Abby crowed. "Here Jimmy, put this on your foot!"

"What happened?" McGee quizzed, glancing from Abby to DiNozzo.

"Some of the local wildlife came sniffing around." Tony shrugged as he sat back down.

"He was awesome McGee. Totally Errol Flynnish – I felt like Maid Marian and Tony swooped in like Robin Hood to save me"

"Tony? Robin Hood?" McGee's eyebrow made a dash for his hairline.

"Laugh it up McGoo!" Tony growled. "it worked okay."

"Well the idea of Tony in tights would be enough to scare anybody off." Ziva smirked.

The snickering started almost immediately…

Tony sighed. It was going to be one of those nights. He should have been angry, but the image of himself prancing around in bright green tights, rapier in hand was too much… even for him.

Snickering turned into chortles… and finally devolved into outright laughter… and all was right with the world.

oXoXoXoXo

Charles Thomas Anderson the 3rd stood at the bar, the jocularity of the table up on the landing not felt by the larger man. The Goth chick had been hot, in a way. It was Friday night and Vanessa would be busy with her other clientele. Getting his 'freak' on with an alternate life babe would have satisfied him plenty. And she would have been his, if that chump hadn't stepped in. Boyfriend? He didn't think so, gal pal more like.

Something niggled at the back of his mind. A fleeting memory – had he met this guy before?

"Chuck! C'mon man she's not worth it, let's get out of here, it's Friday night for crissake!" Dale Ramsey nudged his friend and Boss.

The memory teased him… it was right there on the edge of his brain. He wasn't a business associate; Chuck Anderson didn't deal with the day-to-day holdings of Anderson Logistics – that's what he employed Dale and Rob for. But the guy had money. His wardrobe made that obvious… Country club? No… he didn't seem the type… besides, he got the sense the memory was older… more, personal…

"Chuck! Seriously what's your problem?" Rob Jennings his CFO muttered.

Waving his hand dismissively, the two friends sighed and turned their attention to other patrons of the bar leaving the larger man alone in his thoughts.

Younger, yes, definitely younger… Those eyes, the grey-green that was the key! Where had he seen them before?

With a sudden flash of insight, Chuck dredged an image from his past. Him straddled across the chest of a young man, those same eyes glaring up at him equal parts anger and fear, his fist connecting with the boys jaw, just to stop those eyes looking like that at him, blood spraying over his dress uniform.

"Hole-ly Shite!" Chuck exclaimed, pushing himself away from the bar, a sadistic grin forming over his hardened features. "DiNozzo!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone, thanks for your feedback, it's been great to get all of it, a nice cross section of reviews. Now... onto a statement and a request. My apologies if my next chapter is going to be a bit later in coming. My Laptop is in for diagnosis and repair (we think to the graphics card) so it might take a bit for me to get back to you all. (never fear all my docs are stored on an external drive - I've lost too much information over the years.**

**Also, for later in this story I need to source information on the workings of the US (preferably Federal) Court System. As I am an Aussie, I know our protocols and procedures are a bit different, and I want to stay as true to RL as possible. If anyone out there has background in Law, or knows someone who may be able to help me, please drop me a line! Your help would be Awesome... Now... onto our story... **

**Updated 07/07/2011 owing to Probie Mistake on Ducky's education... *HeadSlap*  
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><p>oXoXoXoXo<p>

"…Then Dr Mallard turned around to Agent Kendall and said, 'if you had been observing like you where supposed to, you would have noticed I used the _other_ finger.'"

"Ewww Palmer!" Abby winced as similar sounds rose from the other members of the table. "That's disgusting! Ducky would never be so… uncouth!"

"I swear it's true." Jimmy raised his palms in defence. "Dr Mallard insisted that it was a good lesson to learn and that the professor at Edinburgh had pulled the same stunt on him."

"The poor guy's is probably buying lifetime shares in Listerine now!" Abby mused.

A Cheshire cat like grin spread across Tony's face. "That's sneaky and underhanded. I like it!"

"You would Tony!" Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Hey, All I'm saying's that it's a fitting punishment for a non observant Probie!" Tony toasted the others and took a mouthful of scotch.

"Hey it's 'Di_Bozzo_!'" a deep voice bellowed behind him.

The Scotch burned in his mouth as Tony felt his heart momentarily freeze. _DiBozzo_ – he hadn't heard that name in years. Unbidden memories of a time and place that he really didn't want to remember instantly sprang back to life. A faint lingering scent of aftershave wafted over Tony's head. Aramis. _Oh God Oh God Oh God_ a small part of his subconscious mind gibbered. _Please let it be anyone but him_.

"Pony The Bozzo? Hot Damn it is you, you little tick turd"

The statement succeeded in capturing the attention of not only Tony's co-workers; but also apparently most everyone in the bar. All bar one head seemed to turn in the direction of the call. Tony, on the other hand, did his level best to focus on the drink now faintly trembling between his nerveless fingers.

Behind him the scent of jasmine and bergamot became more pungent as Tony felt and heard the wooden floor-boards creak in response to a change in weight directly behind him.

_It was what? Twenty-five years ago… man up DiNozzo_, he chided himself. Of course the idea of just ignoring him and hoping he went away also had its charms!

Slowly taking another sip, Tony glanced up through his eyelashes and saw that the other four people at his table were now looking directly over his shoulder. Ziva's eyes flicked across to meet Tony's.

"Tony. A _gentleman_ seems to be attempting to get your attention behind you." She said matter-of-factly, venom dripping from the noun.

"Yeah I know" he replied quietly, replacing his glass with exaggerated care.

A beefy hand smacked down on Tony's shoulder. He felt his left clavicle lurch down towards his hips as the hand dug into Tony's tendons

"If it isn't the little lost poo boy?"

Tony reacted instantly on instinct, reaching over with his right hand grabbing the wrist of his assailant and digging his fingers into the tendons between the Ulna and Radius. It was enough to get the man to let go. Tipping his chair over as he stood up and spun around, Tony once again came face to face with the Gorilla from the bar earlier. His focus now fully on the blonde haired man, that niggling sensation of familiarity grew into full-blown recognition. He should have listened to his gut when he thought he'd seen him before at the bar.

It was twenty-five years since the last time he had seen Chuck Anderson at graduation from Rhode Island Military Academy. Twenty-five years too soon to see him again as far as Tony was concerned. Time had done little to improve Charles Anderson, everything Tony remembered and loathed was still there in abundance!

Steeling himself as best as his stunned nerves would allow, Tony felt the cool mask of indifference slip over him. With more than a little bravado, Tony could certainly convince himself that Chuck Anderson was nothing more than another scum mark on his Farragamo shoes.

"Hello Chuck" Tony smirked.

oXoXoXoXo

"Pony the Bozzo" the man sneered.

Ziva was well aware of her shortcomings when it came to American slang, goodness knows Tony had baited her on it any number of times, but even with her limited knowledge of colloquialisms, she could tell that the moniker the man standing behind Tony had given was not a pleasant one. This was confirmed by the flinty looks in the eyes of the other three friends at the table.

"Whatcha doing in Washington Fancy boy?" the interloper jeered

Ziva suddenly had an unreasoning need to see if she could kill a man with a swizzle stick! Everything about the individual standing with Tony made her predatory side bubble to life.

Beside the seething assassin, McGee felt his ire boil to the top.. "Don't get into it Tim" Tony murmured as the younger agent moved to his feet prepared to defend his friend. McGee hesitated, the use of his given name catching him off guard

"Got yourself high paying Daddy have you?" 'Chuck' crooned, pouting his lips in a mocking manner. "I suppose you'd have to, seeing your old man's on the skids!" McGee and Palmer shot to their feet, anger flashing in their eyes. "Crawling up the hill on your hands and knees are you Pony?"

"Guys sit down." Tony implored over his shoulder to the two younger men. Neither man moved, both shaking their heads in quiet fury.

Palmer was not, by nature a violent man, and he was certain that Dr Mallard would frown on him getting involved in an altercation. But despite that, in the back of Jimmy's mind a small voice sounding a whole lot like his mentor was whispering. _Go on lad... knock his bloody block off!_

"Playing 'Patty Cake' with some Congressman are you?"

"Tony." Ziva purred suspiciously calmly. "Are you just going to take that?" The newest member of the NCIS Agent family rose fluidly to her feet to stand just behind her partners shoulder

Without turning Tony addressed his friend. "Ziva, it's fine. Let me handle this." He was gratified more than he could currently express what his friends were doing on his behalf, but this was one time, one thing, he had to do alone.

Chuck snorted at Tony's comment and took one last dig.

"Tell me whose bitch are you now?"

"Tony wouldn't waste his time on the hill scum-bag! He's a Federal Agent!" Abby snapped suddenly with a fierce pride in her voice.

Tony appreciated the sentiment and made a mental note that he would have to punish her for it later.

"Federal Agent Eh?" The leer on Chucks face grew wider. "Well versed in brown nosing and kissing ass? Or... catching it?"

"You would know more about that Anderson" Tony snapped automatically.

A look of mock surprise formed on the bigger man's face. "Well, well, well, looky here, the Pony-boy's the big man now." Anderson right hand snaked out and gripped the back of Tony's neck, his fingers digging in vice like on either side of Tony's cervical vertebra, reflexively causing the agent to wince, much to his assailants apparent delight.

Before any of them could react, a blur of black and white flashed around the side of the table as Abby planted herself firmly in front of Chuck Anderson. Tony felt his former classmate's grip release, in accompaniment to a solid sounding _thunk_ and a startled yelp as Abby placed a well aimed attack on Anderson shins with her studded leather boot toe.

"You little Whore!" Anderson wailed as he hopped back on the other foot before making an abortive attempt to reach for the Forensic Scientist.

The remaining three friends reacted instantly, each moving to flank Abby and Tony, who had taken the added precaution of grabbing the girl out of harms away putting his body between her and Anderson looping his arm instinctively around her shoulders in protection.

Anderson's startled declaration did not go unnoticed by other patrons, and was enough to bring the altercation to the attention of the bouncer on the door who was speaking quickly into his shoulder radio.

"Is there are a problem here Abby?" a deep south side voice asked moments later as the bouncer approached the table.

The Goth glanced up at Tony as confirmation of what she should do. Abby was fairly well known in this establishment and could have Tony's attacker out on his ear with a word – but ultimately it was Tony's call. So she was surprised to see the faint shake of Tony's head and a trace of pain and… fear… lurking in his eyes.

"No, no problem here Duncan." She said, flashing a winning smile at the Jamaican born bouncer. "Just a bit of a misunderstanding wasn't it?" The grin morphed into a glare in Anderson direction.

Tony could see the former linebacker grind his teeth; his upper lip twitching, wanting to respond, the undisclosed anger all too apparent in his eyes.

"No. No problem here. See you around… Anthony!".

The emphasis Anderson put on Tony's given name made him shiver instinctively.

Pushing his way back over to the bar where his two cronies waited, Anderson swiped his jacket from the back of a bar chair and stormed off towards the door.

As the door to the bar closed on Anderson's back Tony released and explosive breath he didn't remember taking. Standing there, in the middle of a packed bar, Tony suddenly felt naked… and very, very alone. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for over a quarter of a century and it was a feeling that he had hoped he would never feel again. A light touch on his forearm made him jump instinctively. He felt his face flush with embarrassment at the reaction as he looked up to see the concerned eyes of Ziva staring back at him.

He tried to look away – tried to give off an air of excited tension before she recognised the jump to be from the sudden fear that was settling at the bottom of his stomach, but he knew it was already too late.

The fates apparently intervened on his behalf at that moment as Abby threw her arms around Tony's neck.

"Are you OK? Who was that jerk Tony?"

The distraction was enough time for the Senior Field Agent to school his features back into quintessential DiNozzo. Disentangling himself from Abby's arms he slid back down into his chair with a nonchalance he didn't feel.

"Oh him? Just someone I knew in high school." He shrugged. "Never thought I would see him here in DC." Tony mused as he finished the long forgotten drink in front of him. That much was true. Tony had never in a million years expected that Charles Anderson was going to turn up in his life in Washington. Hell having him turn up in his life at all was bad enough. Tony could feel his thoughts slipping into parts of his memories he really didn't want to revisit here in the middle of a bar in Georgetown. Glancing up through his lashes Tony could see the others had returned to their own seats, all of them watching him like a hawk.

_Enter The Great DiNozzo; Master of Misdirection stage right… _The mocking thought lingered at the back of his mind

"Bah!" Tony laughed, his 1000 kilowatt smile hiding his clenched teeth. "He was a jackass when we at school, Linebacker on our football team. You know the type – ostriches have brains that made him jealous!"

"Tony, what he said…" Tim began, not exactly sure where to take his train of thought.

"What he said was exactly what I expected him to say McInnocent. Chuck Anderson's humour was always a bit… puerile… and coming from me you know that's gotta be saying somethin' right? So are we going to let some doofus from my past ruin our night, or are we getting something to eat?"

Ziva, Palmer, Abby and McGee exchanged glances, each trying to read exactly what Tony was feeling.

"Ooh! They have the rib-eye back on the menu" Tony enthused as he glanced over the menu.

For the next several hours despite the best efforts of a group that included a Mossad trained interrogator; two of the best Forensic investigators in their chosen fields; and an up and coming ME, no one at the table seemed to be able to find anything out of place with their colleague, though all suspected that there was more to this story that Tony was letting on.

To all intents and purposes he was his jovial joke cracking self and Tony was unbelievably relieved that a lifetime of guarding himself from all comers still held firm. More so now than when he had first arrived at the bar, he had wanted nothing more than to scoff the remains of his scotch and get out of there. But he couldn't. If he didn't act like he was supposed to it would raise too many questions he was really unprepared to answer. So instead he sat there, laughing and bantering with his friends like Chuck Anderson meant nothing to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. When the group finally called it a night, Tony made his good nights, even going so far as offering Ziva a lift home, only to have her wave him off citing it would make more sense for her to go with Palmer since he lived in her direction.

One by one the friends departed until only Abby and Tony remained. Opening the Filibusters doors for Abby, they were confronted by wet cityscape glistening under the June night sky.

Holding out his hands to take Abby's coat and help her into it, Tony mused on the late night serenity of the scene.

"It's rained." He said simply, inhaling the moist air, snatching a moment of relief as the scent of summer lingered even over the heat of the city.

"It has" Abby responded as she slipped into her coat. "Alright Tony! What's going on?"

Tony flinched inwardly – trust her to not back down. "Well y'see Abby, when water droplets in the air get warm they rise up into the sky. And then, when they cool they get heavy and fall back down to the ground" he deliberately misconstrued her question obfuscating it with a sad attempt at humour.

"Tony!"

He bit his lip as the punch to his upper arm landed. It wasn't hard enough to hurt him per se; but that damned skull ring she was wearing was going to leave a mark.

"It's nothing Abs." said seriously. "Like I said, it was a jerk I knew at school. That's all."

Abby narrowed her eyes in pensive thought. "I don't trust you Anthony!"

He pulled the Goth into his arms and hugged her hard before kissing her gently on the cheek. "Go home Abs! You still up for our movie night tomorrow? It David Lean… C'mon, I mean, who doesn't love '_NO PRISONERS'_" Abby jumped slightly at Tony's sudden Peter O'Toole impression. She giggled her best Abby giggle. "See; there, I'm fine" Tony grinned holding his arms out wide as he stepped down off the curb and walked over to the drivers door of his car.

"You sure you're okay Tony?" Abby tried one final time.

Tony tried to look hurt.

"Hey! What did I just say?" he opened the door and began to climb in "Scout's honour."

"You weren't a scout DiNozzo!" Abby called over the rumble of engine starting up in front of her.

Tony grinned, waved at her and as he started to drive off.

Turning to unlock the door of her dragster, Abby failed to see the grin slide from the face of her friend as the darkness of the night started to envelope him.

oXoXoXoXo

From behind the tinted windows of the black suburban parked up opposite the Filibuster's front door, Charles Thomas Anderson patiently waited. After leaving the bar earlier that evening Rob and Dale had tried to convince him to turn his interests to other carnal pursuits. It was a shame in a way that he had turned them down, but his ardour for easily obtainable flesh had been quenched by the incident in the bar. Well, sort of.

Running into DiNozzo after all that time had been an interesting turn of events. He still remembered the first time that he had met Anthony Jnr. Chuck shared more than just a school history with the federal agent. His father Vincent Anderson had been a corporate magnate and long time Civil War enthusiast which had moved him in the same circles as Anthony DiNozzo Snr.

The two sons had first crossed paths at Bicentennial year re-enactment of Battle of Fredericksburg in December of 76. Chuck, and his cousins Theo and Marcus had been 'conscripted' by their respective fathers to act as drummer boys for their 'unit'. To a trio of restless nine year olds the idea of slogging around some god-awful field ratta-tat-tatting randomly for a bunch of middle-aged men who couldn't let go of the past was just plain dumb! They could have been back at home crashing Evel Knievel into various items, or putting a glob of slime down the collar of Chucks little sister Maggie. For two days the three boys had nothing worthy of their scheming to do but bang on their drums. That had changed however the moment they had been introduced to Anthony DiNozzo Jr.

A year younger and several inches shorter than the Anderson cousins, the young boy with tousled sandy brown hair and green eyes had an apprehensive energy that the three pack-mates had seen as weakness. They did not know or care that the young Anthony had not a month before buried his mother.

From the first meeting, Team Anderson had made it their mission to make 'The Bozzo's' life a living hell. Their fathers had introduced them so they could make friends – and whenever the parents were around everything seem just peachy. Chuck could often be seen with his arm wrapped around little Anthony's neck in a chum like hug. Very rarely did anyone see the bruising left behind by a more than adequate choke-hold on the younger boy.

But when the cat was away… oh how the mice played.

One of the favourite sports the three tormentors had involved Tony's field assignment. There was no glorious drummer boy in DiNozzo's future. No… he was relegated to the shitty end of the pile so to speak. Running between the re-enactors so the adults could take a dump.

A well placed foot as Pony flew past at someone's frantic call would result in an inevitable crash, where often the contents of the bucket would land missile like on The Bozzo at worst… or one of the inevitable spectators at best.

The business investments spawned from the meeting of Vincent Anderson and Anthony DiNozzo resulted in several other extracurricular activities that reintroduced Chuck and Tony over the next three years. Chuck willingly admitted that he liked it when Mr DiNozzo and his 'pal' Tony came around. Of course he did. He had been tormenting his sister for her entire life. Tony offered someone new to target. The fun wasn't quite so much on the occasions the Anderson's went to the DiNozzo's. The number of 'infectious' childhood maladies that the young DiNozzo suddenly seemed to suffer grew exponentially high as their visits grew, curbing the Younger Anderson's faintly sadistic fun.

Chucks propensity towards cruelty went largely unnoticed by his parents until the summer of his thirteenth birthday. An incident with a staff member resulting in the young woman requiring hospitalisation brought the situation to a head. The threat of legal action from the woman's family was a wake up call to Vincent Anderson. A decision was made. Enrolment for Charles in the prestigious Rhode Island Military Academy. Vincent hoped that five years at boarding school – a military boarding school at that – would serve as a wake up call for his son. And so in the new school year Charles Patrick Anderson shipped out.

At first the young Anderson was furious at his fathers decision. He wasn't scared of being relegated to a boarding school, separated from his parents. Hell he had seen more of the staff than his folks in his childhood. No, he was furious that all the schemes he had been planning for the next six months were going up in smoke. Three weeks into the school term and the rapidly growing brute suddenly found a world of new possibilities; if he picked his targets right.

RIMA like all schools had rules – and as a military formulated one, even more so. But rules like people could be bent to your own desires, and Chuck was very adept at doing just that. Within his first six months Chuck had become the freshman to watch. The unspoken leaders at the school, a group of like minded seniors, welcomed the new comer in. So when the winter intake of students arrived, including one Anthony DiNozzo Jnr, Chuck Anderson's position within the hierarchy of school was well and truly established.

Leaning back into the seat of his car, Anderson smiled at the memories. _So Pony boy was bumping uglies with the Goth chick. Never would have picked him for something so, alternate_. Historically DiNozzo's type always ran towards the cheerleaders and gymnasts.

Didn't matter, the result was still going to be the same as it had been twenty five years ago. If Tony had something, Chuck wanted it. Not because he _wanted_ it… because he didn't want Tony to have it.

The door opened to the bar, disturbing Anderson's line of thought. _Right on cue_. He watched as DiNozzo said his goodbyes and drove off into the DC night leaving the luscious Goth alone. Dare he make a move now? Probably not a good idea, they had already had the altercation in the bar. The fact she had shown some teeth and stood up to him intrigued him. He usually liked his women compliant, even his own wife understood that.

Anderson watched as the girl moved down the street stopping in front of what looked like a chilli red Ford Coupe hot rod. The engine thrummed as she turned it over and pulled out into the late night DC traffic. His interest had been whetted. The fact that The Bozzo was her boyfriend sweetened the pot even more – taking her from him would just be the icing on the cake.

Careful not to be obvious Charles Anderson pulled out into the road behind the Hot Rod and followed it into the night.


	4. Chapter 3

**Well, the good news is that my Baby is back... thank goodness Apple actually did good this time and covered a part that was faulty and out of warranty - otherwise mucho-expencso. Big shout out thanks to all my reviewers - love that you are liking it. Personal Yay to Laine3112 a fellow Aussie Author extraordinaire who has rejoined the ranks of the writing... seriously - check out her work - she's amazing! Anyway here's my next chapter.**

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Saturday June 4

Saturday morning had dawned bright and clear, a soft summer breeze rustling the leaves outside his window and gently moving the drapes in his bedroom.

Traitors!

The telltale undulation of the drapes billowed as the breeze, like a lover sighing in an almost rhythmic measure, moved the edge of the drape periodically casting a blazing shaft of light over the torso and face of the occupant of the bed.

The blissful oblivion of darkness behind his eyelids was pierced by golden yellow the breaking dawn causing him to twitch uncontrollably.

Fluttering his grey-green eyes open just as the breeze billowed once more, Tony bit back a curse as blinding as the sun streaming into his eyes and threw his hand over his face. Blinking furiously to clear his vision he glared at the clock on the bed stand.

8.32am

Tony rolled over onto his back staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. He felt indolent just lying there when his mind was still racing.

He had nowhere to be specifically, the team wasn't on call this weekend and he had planned on making the most of the weekend catching up with a variety of chores that he put off every night after slumping in from work muttering the same mantra, tomorrow… he would do them tomorrow… Some said tomorrow never comes and little orphan Annie said it was only a day away, but it appeared that Tomorrow, thy name is Saturday!

If he could get through what he needed to do he'd maybe call Palmer and harangue him into a trip to the courts for a pickup game or two with some buddies before coming home to shower and change before settling in for a lazy evening of movies with his best movie partner – Miss Abigail Sciuto.

Lying there he theorised that most, if not all of his activities he had planned would actually get done over the weekend, but not with the same lackadaisical mental attitude he'd been planning on. His mind just wouldn't seem to shut up.

Okay so yeah, shutting his brain up was pretty much an ongoing issue anyway, but now it just seemed more intensely garbled. The unexpected run in with Chuck the night before had rattled Tony more than he was probably willing to admit.

Eyes open, full awake now, Tony groaned and pulled the spare pillow over his face, clenching it briefly before flinging again to the other side of the bed with a huff as he sat up.

"No use lying around if you aren't going to sleep Anthony" he groused.

Attempting to swing his legs out from under the covers proved to be more problematic that Tony had factored on. At some point during the night, he'd managed to rather skilfully tangle the sheets around his legs, so his normally slothful exit from his bed ended up resulting in a frantic flailing of limbs in an effort to kick himself free. Finally extricating himself from the masochistic bedding Tony raked his hand through his hair.

Padding over to a chair that was currently holding duty as a clean laundry hamper he rummaged through until he found what he wanted. Pulling on a pair of light sweats and slipping a t-shirt over his head, Tony swore as he turned around catching his big toe on the edge of his bed.

_Great!_ He thought bitterly his sombre mood darkening further, "I wonder if this is how Gibbs feels before his first coffee?" Tony muttered then caught himself. What was the big deal? He'd stubbed his toe. How often had he done that in the past? Okay yeah usually he swore like a swabbie, hopped around on one leg for a bit and limped off to get on with his day. Letting the fact that some random nightmare from his dim past had happened to turn up in the same bar the night before ruin his weekend off was just plain nuts.

Breathing in deeply cleared his head and his perspective. It was Saturday, it was good weather and he didn't have a body to investigate. Time to enjoy the weekend!

Besides, Abs was coming over that afternoon for a David Lean fest… Movies, Pizza a couple of drinks – all was going to be well with the world!

Many hours later Tony sipped his drink and reflected for a day that he thought was going to be spoiled by the unexpected meeting the night before it had actually turned out pretty okay. The day was over, the chores he wanted to do were done, he'd actually managed to restock in fridge and cupboards, he'd managed to get in a couple of games of three on three and by now Palmer was probably somewhere letting the lovely Breena work the kinks out his sports ravaged muscles.

From Tony's lap a contented sigh issued from the semi dozing form as the closing refrains of Maurice Jarres Oscar winning score of _Lawrence of Arabia _issued from his flatscreen. Abby had managed to get through _The Bridge over the River Kwai _– curled up at the other end of Tony's couch: _Doctor Zhivago _– knees still curled up head resting on Tony's shoulder; and most of _Lawrence_ - finally succumbing to her ever drooping eyelids and slumping down to use Tony's thigh as a pillow.

"You comfortable there Abs?" Tony grinned at her, gently moving a stray lock from her eyes.

"Mmmmm…" the depth of the sound issuing from her throat was almost purr like.

"You wanna stay the night?"

An amber eye peered up at him.

"What time is it?" she yawned.

Tony glanced at his watch. "A little after one."

Abby groaned as she sat upright next to him. . "Nah, Sister Rosita has organised a scratch match with the Sisters of Mercy after church tomorrow so I need my beauty sleep to get my game on!" Shaking her head vigorously Abby stood up.

Rising to stand next to her Tony smiled at his friend. "You never need beauty sleep Abs. You're just made that way naturally!"

"Aaww, you're so sweet Tony." She cooed as she patted Tony's cheek. "Now where'd I put my bag?"

As Tony escorted Abby down the front steps of his brownstone, they both felt the nip in the June air.

"Before I forget Tony. July fourth."

"Yeah… National holiday?"

"Exactly! No excuses, no exceptions, party, my place, comprende?"

"Are you ordering me Miss Sciuto?"

"Damn straight buster! And I expect complete obedience!"

"I hear and obey oh dark mistress!" Tony mocked sniveled submissively.

Abby rolled her eyes and grinned. "Nice Renfield impersonation there DiNozzo."

"Aaah the lady knows her classics."

"I'm serious Tony – no excuses. I've been planning this since like January and I want all my musketeers to share it with me. Pinkie promise?" Abby held up her right hand, pinkie finger hooked over.

Interlocking his own right pinkie in hers Tony grinned. "Would I let you down Abbs?" Tony paused… "Don't answer that!"

Abby's eyes danced with amusement as she stifled a yawn.

"Go home Abby. Your Nuns'll need you bright eyed and bushy tailed!"

Abby arched an eyebrow with a smirk. "There's a joke in there somewhere I know it. And I'm sure you'd more about it that subject Tony." She was rewarded with a self-satisfied grin from her friend. "Just as I thought."

"Go, home, Abs!"

The embrace he gave her was no less than she had come to expect from Tony. Full bodied and completely genuine. She loved hugging him. If she only had two people in the world to hug, it would be Gibbs and Tony. Both men provided her with a security and love that was unconditional. Squeezing as tight as she could, Abby made the most of Tony's physique.

"Abs… Air!" Tony squeaked.

"Oh, sorry." She apologised as she relaxed her grip, "going now."

"Good plan, get out of here" Tony kissed her on the forehead and gave her a gentle push towards her car.

"Night Tony!" Abby waved as she moved down the pavement to where her car was parked some two hundred feet down the road. Glancing back she saw Tony standing on top of the stoop watching for her to get to her car. She waved again and gave a shooing gesture.

"Night Abs" he called as he opened the door.

Abby smiled as she reached for her keys. She'd had a good night, but her movie nights with Tony were always good. Bending down to insert her key in the lock, a movement across the road caught her attention. Looking up Abby saw nothing out of the ordinary. A typical Georgetown street, cars lining both sides of the roads, no people wandering the streets. Must have just been a cat. Shrugging, Abby climbed into her car and drove off. Blissfully ignorant to the shadow in a beat up green Camry watching her through a photo lens from the other side of the road.

oXoXoXoXo

Tuesday June 7

"Gear Up, we got a dead Lieutenant."

Ziva's head jerked up from the report she was reading. The call had gone out and like a well-oiled machine the three other agents reached instantly for their packs.

"Where abouts Boss?" McGee queried as they headed towards the elevator.

"Dumpster, Reagan International."

"Suspicious?" Tony asked.

"Well he's got a dive spear clean through his head, whadda ya think DiNozzo?"

"Sorry Boss."

The trip to the airport was uneventful. Well uneventful as far as Ziva was concerned. She often found Gibbs driving style a little… tame for her tastes. The same could not be said for Tony or McGee. From her vantage point behind Gibbs Ziva spent much of the short trip watching in amusement as McGee and Tony's grips on their respective grab handles got tighter and tighter.

"I think we just passed Spaceball One." Tony muttered from the front passenger seat as they weaved down the George Washington Memorial Parkway towards Reagan International Airport.

Ziva did not get what she strongly suspected was a movie reference, but from the strangled whimper-laugh from McGee sitting next to her, he apparently did.

"I do not understand why you have a problem with Gibbs driving Tony." Ziva commented calmly.

"Because I didn't get my drivers license dodging bullets and IED's Zee-Vah!" Tony snapped, shooting a look in her direction before comically blanching and glancing at Gibbs. "Boss, not that I'm implying that you…Gahaaah!"

Even Ziva had to admit Gibbs next sudden change of direction was unexpected and did make her stomach lurch in surprise as the Team Leader swung the wheel hard right without braking and raced towards the entry to the Airport.

Pausing just long enough to flash his ID badge to the guard on the gate, Gibbs proceeded to engage in a game of parking lot roulette as he dodged cars and pedestrians alike as he headed towards the service way behind the food hall.

Parking up near the entrance to the service way, the agents alighted and grabbed their gear from the boot of the car. Airport security had secured the area as soon as staff had discovered the body, but gossip spread like wildfire and the chance to see a skewered Navy Lieutenant was too much temptation for any number of spectators. A sizable crowd of onlookers had formed at the mouth of the crime scene.

Gibbs glared frostily at the gawkers as he strode purposefully towards the ropeline. "DiNozzo – shoot and sketch. McGee – witness statements. Ziva – bag and tag."

"On it Boss" a chorus went up in unison.

The time it usually took Ducky, Jimmy and the ME van to arrive provided ample opportunity for the four investigators to get on with their respective jobs. A crime scene of this origin was fundamentally routine for the NCIS agents. Over the past four years the four had fallen into a comfortable almost automatic pattern, the job demarcation had varied enough to provide Tony and the junior agents experience in all aspects of assessing and processing a scene like this. Each willing to step up and take over a role if and when necessary. Today there were no great surprises and the team let routine and procedure take over. Gibbs had moved off to liaise with the local LEO's on the scene while McGee was talking to the distraught kitchen hand who had made the gruesome discovery, leaving Tony and Ziva to work over the deceased.

"Lieutenant Todd Rowlands." Ziva commented holding up his Navy Yard Pass. Pulling out her smartphone Ziva accessed the Lieutenants details. "Married, no children. Stationed for the last three months at Guam as systems analyst on the USS Buffalo. Flew back to DC last night, flight scheduled to arrive at 1840.

Tony lowered the camera from his eye and squatted down next to the body. "Ziva does this look right to you?" He gestured with his free hand to a small patch of exposed skin at the Lieutenants flank. A distinct impression of some sort of embellished crucifix was embedded deeply into the mottled flesh. "Hold his shirt aside so I can get a good shot will you?"

Kneeling down next to Tony, Ziva delicately inched the corner of the shirt up for Tony to take his shot.

The Nikon gave a decidedly unhealthy bleep.

"Tony!" Ziva sighed in exasperation. Trust DiNozzo not to check the batteries.

"Hey don't look at me! This thing was fully charged when I grabbed it this morning! Must be on the fritz." Tony stood in a fluid motion. "The spare's in the trunk. Back in a sec."

Walking back to the car, Tony studied the mutinous equipment. Turning the camera over in his hands, he examined the device for any immediate faults, removing and reinserting the battery. Flicking the camera back on as he approached the crime scene tapeline, he inadvertently touched the shutter button resulting in a blinding flash of light – right into his eyes. Blinking furiously Tony shook his head trying to clear the dots in front of his vision while simultaneously glaring at the sniggering uniformed LEO's guarding the crime scene line. Cursing his own foolishness, while at the same time exceptionally pleased that neither McGee nor Ziva had witnessed the event, Tony casually scanned the still mingling crowd as he walked the short distance over to their car.

The Agent had just opened the trunk and was about to reach down into the back up camera gear when a face in the crowd caught his attention. A cruel, spiteful grin plastered on his face.

_What the hell?_ Tony did a double take to make sure he wasn't imagining things. There was no mistaking it, and it wasn't a figment of his imagination. Standing at the back of the crowd was Chuck Anderson.

"DiNozzo! You gonna join us?" Gibbs barked.

"Just coming Boss." Tony responded glancing back over his shoulder towards the Team Leader. That moment of distraction was all someone needed to slip away Tony would later fume, but for now his eyes scanned the crowd, trying in vain to reacquire a visual on Anderson. But he was gone… if he was ever there in the first place.

Collecting the spare Nikon, Tony returned to the continue processing the scene. It was Anderson he had seen. What was he doing there?

Refocusing his attention at the job on hand, the Boss would kill him if he had anything less than his full attention of the scene; Tony worked through his assigned duties. Once Ducky had Lieutenant Rowlands body bagged up and ready to be shipped back to Autopsy, the scene had be processed. Ziva had collected all manner of items from the decidedly fetid service way for Abby to analyze. McGee had spoken to any number of staff and security about what they had seen and how someone could access this part of the Airport, and Tony had built a comprehensive breakdown of the location. All that needed to be done now was work out the who, why and when of the case back at the office.

Loading the gear back up into the car, Tony could now turn his thoughts back to other things. The journey for Tony back to the Navy Yard passed without incident, any of Gibbs normal hair raising driving skills seemed to just wash over the Senior Field Agent. He even failed to notice the mildly surprised look that Ziva and McGee shared when Tony didn't react to Ziva calling shotgun. Replaying the moment over in his mind, Tony reassured himself of what he had seen. It was Anderson. So it came back to the same question. What was he doing there?

The rational part of Tony's brain argued that Chuck Anderson had every right to be at Reagan. It was an Airport for crying out loud, and he was a businessman and corporate lobbyist. There was any number of reasons for him to be there… Traveling himself; picking someone up; dropping someone off. Why did people go to the airport? Despite his perfectly reasonable explanations as to the why, still part of Tony's brain and gut churned in unison unwilling to accept the most likely scenario his investigators mind could offer.

By the time Gibbs pulled the fleet car into the parking lot, Tony had come to the conclusion that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and he was over reacting. What possible reason could Chuck Anderson have in stalking someone he hadn't seen in over a quarter of a century until five days before?

"You with us DiNozzo?" A familiar gruff voice queried.

"Yeah Boss."

"Well c'mon."

Mentally shaking himself back to the present, Tony glanced over and saw Gibbs holding the elevator. "On your six Boss." What ever brought Anderson to that crime scene it was only an unfortunate coincidence; Tony wasn't going to let a childish paranoia affect his ability to perform his job. Chuck Anderson was the past – and like all things from the past… it was time to put it behind him.


	5. Chapter 4

**Considering we had a complete server crash a work today that took our phones offline for about two thirds of my day, I caught up with a bit more of the story... so here is chapter 4 a little ahead of schedule. Please R&R if you feel the need - all constructive comments are welcomed ~ Ozzy**

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Friday June 17

"Night Henry!" Abby called as she passed through the lobby of NCIS.

"Night Miss Sciuto." The guard replied.

Stopping to face the security guard an expression of playful frustration flicked across the forensic scientists face. "It's Abby, Henry. _Aaa-Beee_! Miss Sciuto is my maiden Aunt. Geez Henry how many times do I have to keep telling you that?"

A grin spread across the veteran guards face. "About twice a day by my reckoning. More if we're out of Caf-Pow."

Pulling her lace gloves on delicately, Abby squinted at her work associate. "We will continue this conversation later Henry!"

"I'm sure we will Miss Sciuto."

"Aargh! Alright, I give up!" Abby threw her hands up in the air as she walked towards the front doors of NCIS.

"Enjoy your weekend… _MISS SCIUTO_." Henry's voice trailed after Abby as she stepped through the front doors.

"I'll get you yet my pretty!" she cackled to herself as she walked across the NCIS forecourt towards the staff parking lot.

It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. Another week was over. Her babies were all tucked up in their special dust proof jackets down in the lab. The lab was Shipshape and Bristol Fashion as Ducky would put it. Team Gibbs had pulled call out duty this weekend, but it was Timmy and Ziva's turns to man the phones until late Saturday, which worked out well given Tony's recent Oscar binge. It wasn't their regularly scheduled night for crashing in front of Tony's TV, but beggars couldn't be choosers and given the fact that Tony didn't have any plans, the two friends had quickly conspired to catch up for at least one movie that night. After some intense haggling over choice, they had finally settled on George Roy Hills immortal _The Sting_, racketeering, murder, deceit, friendships, corruption and of course… an utterly delicious serving of Paul Newman and Robert Redford in the height of their hotness.

Breathing deeply Abby smiled. Across the lot, shining in the sunlight like a firecracker was her baby. Abby loved her car… a classic, lovingly restored 1931 Ford Coupe hot rod, with a 350 Chevy engine, 420 Horse Power and Hydro Transmission.

Abby had never forgotten the Christmas she had opened the card from Tony to find a gift certificate from the DC DMV. Not what you would call a normal present – but then, Tony was rarely anything but normal. He had explained that the certificate would cover the cost of customised plates if she wanted them. "A car that stunning needs the appropriate accoutrements". From that day Abby always allowed herself a little smile when she looked at her number plate – 4NS CHIK, Forensic Chick.

Sliding her keys into the lock, Abby suddenly shivered and glanced up at the sky. Half expecting to see a cloud over the sun, the Gothic Scientist blinked. There wasn't a cloud in sight, but she still had that feeling of a sudden change in temperature. Her stomach did a little flip for no good reason. Something wasn't right. Scanning the area around her Abby tried to place what was wrong. It felt like when Gibbs had managed to sneak up on her… only… hinky-er. Was someone watching her? The pilomotor reflex of her body suddenly kicked in as goose bumps formed up the back of her arms and at the base of her neck.

Looking around the lot, Abby tried to see if anything was out of place. Pool cars were in their pool assigned bays, staff cars in staff bays, she could see a variety of visitors cars over the far side of the lot closer to the entrance. Standing near the decommissioned battery gun near where she had exited NCIS were a group of visitors and their Navy escort. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Friday afternoon, certainly nothing that would have immediately set off her spidey-senses.

Shrugging the feeling off, Abby admonished herself – she was in the Navy Yard… who could possibly be following her in the Navy Yard. Okay true, her psycho ex Mikel had managed to slip past security, but that was a once off. There was also the time that Ari had shot at her from Anacostia Park… but he wasn't technically in the Navy Yard so it didn't count. And then there was the time that Alejandro had left day of the dead dolls all over their cars earlier in the year, but he was supposed to be on base…

As if on cue the cutis anserina reinstated themselves all over the backs of her arms.

This was getting silly – they had tightened security up on the base and Gibbs' gut would have alerted the whole department if there had been bad mojo at the Navy Yard. Maybe Ducky was right. Maybe the Caf-Pow was starting to affect her?

"Wash your mouth out Abigail!" she grumbled as she unlocked her car. "Go home, get changed. Tony's expecting you!" Slipping into the drivers seat Abby keyed the ignition. A satisfying rumble and purr bloomed from the exhaust. Her baby was talking to her. Letting the low soothing tones of the Chevy block under her hood relax her, Abby slid the car into reverse and pulled out her bay. "Weekend, here I come!"

oXoXoXoXo

Across the tarmac, the group of corporate visitors moved across the pavement towards the visitors parking from the function room they had been in most of the day. Hammering out defence contract negotiations were always tedious, so the group had been more than willing to wrap early for the weekend and head home. When one member of the group had stopped just near the front of the NCIS headquarters no one thought anything of it. Likewise no one took notice when the oddly dressed office worker with a coffin shaped backpack strolled past the mingling group, and no one certainly thought to question the adder like grin that formed on Charles Anderson's face as he watched his quarry stroll towards her car.

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Saturday June 18

So far it'd been an easy assignment for Jason Watson. The experience of being a twenty three year old veteran of the Chicago PD as detective first class had been a formidable training ground for the day five years ago when he had handed in his badge, moved to DC, hung up his own shingle and started his new career as an honest to goodness gumshoe.

He theorized there had to be better pay in tailing rich DC society types and sleazy double-dipping, cheating congressmen, then busting his balls sixteen hours a day just to have some jackass Judge throw your case out cause some schmendrake had screwed up chain of custody.

Of course having the little putz back on the street and blowing away a couple of nine year olds two days later in a drive by gone wrong didn't make his decision to leave the force none too difficult neither.

But that was a lifetime ago, now he found himself sitting in the cabin of his long abused 2002 murky green Toyota Camry. The car had seen more facelifts than Phyllis Diller and sounded about as healthy, but it got him from point A to point B on a fairly regular basis so he couldn't complain. Plus his daughter had bought him a really sweet massage seat cover that did wonders for his sciatica on long stakeouts. Not that this was turning out to be a particularly long stake out.

The job had come fast and out of the blue. A friend of a friend had recommended Watson as a reliable and discreet investigator, something he always prided himself in despite his near six foot six frame. The offer had come through faster than he was expecting… and the pay was far better than he normally charged, $800 per hour plus expenses. That was four times his usual asking rate, and this was what they offered, up front. At first Watson's cop senses twitched… someone coming out of the blue to offer that type of money for what was basically going to be a tracer job rang all the wrong bells in the veteran LEO's mind.

Gut instinct told Watson that something wasn't Kosher, but despite some fairly in depth digging by himself and a mate on still on the Force here in DC, he could find no reason for the nagging sensation. The gig was a simple one; follow discreetly and obtain all pertinent information about the lifestyle and activities of the target, a fairly standard surveillance in the realm of a DC Dick. Having been on the trail of any number of sleazy affairs over the past few years Jason had learned not to ask too many questions and just go with the flow. So when the employer offered the reason behind the assignment to him on the first day Jason chose not to question it. He had been engaged to gather information on a hot young scientist the company was looking to head hunt and to all intents and purposes the gig seemed legit, but still something still niggled at the PI.

In fact all the digging in the world into his would be employers company didn't flag any of the usual skeletons that went with corporate America. No one got as high up the food chain in DC without a little dirty linen. But this company and its owner seemed to be of the Teflon kind – nothing seemed to stick to them. Jay had warred for two days with his gut and mind deciding whether to take the job. Eventually the credit crunch caught him in its teeth. The rent was due at the end of the week and he had promised his daughter that if he could get the cash he would send her to that damned superstar camp she wanted to go to so badly in August… so beggars couldn't be choosers.

Despite his misgivings, and an odd certainty that he'd somehow just signed a contract with the devil, Jay had taken the job.

So far it had been a simple case of following the extraordinarily dressed young woman around and map out her daily routine, her likes, dislikes, foibles and traits. The brief he had been given was that the potential employer wanted some deep background on her habits so that when they offered her the job that it would be a tailor made package. Corporate profiling was essentially what it was; making sure that all your dots and dashes lined up with the potential target's interests to get the best outcome at the best price, seduction by deduction as one former employer had put it. It wasn't the first time Watson had done something like this – and Jay was pretty certain that it wouldn't be the last.

From what he had been able to gather so far, any package that his employer was going to offer Ms Abigail Sciuto was going to have to be a monster! So far in the week that he had been trailing her, she had been, bowling with Nuns, or at the very least ladies who liked to dress as nuns – he had quickly crossed himself to be on the safe side, just in case… She had been to a construction site for Habitat for Humanity; she had been to the blind association and seemed to be helping with the obedience training of a group of puppies; two band rehearsals and three night clubs, and despite all that she still seemed to be at work by six am and not leave until usually after five. He was getting exhausted just following her! He theorized she had to be on drugs or mainlining coffee or something…

The PI looked down at his watch. 2.30 am. Glory Be!

He had followed his mark and her cherry red hotrod from her house into Georgetown to a brownstone apartment complex and had watched her walk up to the security door and let herself in around 7pm. Moments later she had re-emerged from the building with a box in her hands followed by a tall good looking young man, similarly burdened with boxes, Jay had already identified as one Anthony DiNozzo who worked at the Navy Yard with Ms Sciuto. He watched and logged the interaction between the young couple. Loading the cartons into the back of the hot rod, Mr DiNozzo reached into the back seat and pulled out a small black overnight bag. He had watched as the young man tentatively pulled at the zip on the side of the bag before chuckling loudly enough that the sound carried across to Watson's Camry.

Despite the telephoto lens on his Canon, Watson couldn't seem to get a good shot of whatever it was Mr DiNozzo had lifted out of the bag as the young man's back blocked the shot. Jason did however get a very clear shot of Ms Sciuto's mortified face as he did it, and could certainly hear her fever pitched reaction and demands for 'Tony' to give it back. A brief scuffle and a lot of giggling on both sides ensued resulting in the young woman wrestling the bag away and clutching it desperately in her arms while the young man wrapped her in a bear hug from behind. As the giggling subsided, Jason watched as the young man draped his arm over Ms Sciuto's shoulders as she slid her arm around his waist. They remained in that embrace until they arrived back at the foyer of the Brownstone when Mr DiNozzo had disentangled himself from Ms Sciuto to let them in.

After a brief call to an old buddy in the DC Metro, Jay had confirmed that the address he was parked out the front of was the residence of Mr DiNozzo, and if he was right, the lights on the third floor front side where his. A suspicion that was quickly confirmed when movement at the window of a shade being drawn revealed Ms Sciuto's form.

The preliminary information he had been provided by his employer implied that Mr DiNozzo and Ms Sciuto were in a relationship and part of Jason's brief was to confirm or dispel those implications to make sure the package could be tailored accordingly. No use offering someone their dream job if it required them to up and leave a loved one behind.

The blue luminescence flickering through the shades on the right was enough to tell the experienced PI that they had settled in to watch a movie.

That had been more than six hours ago. Who watched movies for six hours straight?

Jay was in the process of pouring himself another cup of coffee when a light in the adjoining room came on and a clearly male silhouette pulled closed the drapes. Moments later, framed by the back light of what seemed to be a bed side lamp, Jay could make out the form moving back into the room clearly carrying someone else. He watched through the lens as the forms disappeared from view for a moment. A minute or so later the light in the suspected living room went off, followed moments later by the light in the other room. Finally! It seemed the young lovers had gone to bed! About time. The building was now shrouded in darkness save for the street and porch lights.

Time for him to try and get some shut eye. Winding down his window and pouring the cup of coffee into the gutter, Jay reached over and grabbed the light blanket he always kept in the back seat. Tucking it over his shoulders and kidneys he lowered the seat back, made himself as comfortable as possible and tried to get some sleep.

oXoXoXoXo

The chirping of birds outside his window, and a warm form nestled tight against his left had side were the first things Tony noticed when he woke the next morning.

Glancing down his chest Tony saw a shape under the light cotton sheet covering his torso. Lifting the sheet slightly he grinned at the hand draped casually across his upper body. Following the arm back up to its owner, Tony smiled warmly at the sleeping form of his friend. At some point in the evening Abby had rolled over from the far side of the bed onto her side and instinctively reached out for her sleeping companion snuggling in against him for comfort and security.

Very early in their relationship Tony and Abby had realised that although they shared a mutual attraction to each other, neither wanted the other as a partner for sex. That realisation had freed up their relationship giving it a deeper meaning to the agent and scientist resulting in scenes like this occurring on a semi regular basis.

There were, however, some rather stringent ground rules to a Sciuto/DiNozzo bedshare arrangement!

Tony couldn't complain when Abby stole his pillows and tangled herself in the covers leaving him little or no bedclothes, nor could he comment on those 'cute' little noises she made when she slept that were in no way anything like snoring, at all, ever. Or grumble when Abby bounced from the bed like a demented jack in the box first thing in the morning. Likewise Abby wouldn't complain when Tony tossed and turned in the night stealing more than his fair share of the covers and made odd noises while _she_ tried to sleep that would stop the second she woke, or hassle him when he crawled from the bed as grouchy as a bear with a toothache in the morning.

A muffled 'murmph' and a petite groan from under the tousled head of jet black hair alerted Tony to Abby's semi awakened state.

"Morning sunshine." Tony grinned as Abby's slumber gave way to consciousness.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows Abby blinked owlishly at her bed partner. "What time?" she asked, her voice taking on an early morning rasp.

"Sometime around two." He replied, correctly guessing Abby was referring to the time they'd gone to bed. "You're losing your edge Abs. Where's the spry young thing who could pull an all nighter?"

"Lying next to the 'senior' agent who has about half a tonne of Tiger Balm and Icy Hot in his bathroom!"

"Touché. Time is catching up on us"

"Speaking of which. What time is it anyway?" Abby asked raising her head to look over Tony's chest towards his beside table.

Turning, Tony glanced at the clock. "Just after 7.30."

"7.30?" Abby jerked her body in an upright direction bringing herself to her hands and knees on the bed. "Oh no! I promised Sister Rosita that I would be at the swap meet by eight!" Abby bounced/crawled her way to the edge of the bed, her knees sinking into the memory foam mattress. Throwing herself off the edge, Abby dashed out of the bedroom into Tony's living room, returning a moment later with her overnight bag.

"I'm sure the Nun's won't mind if you're a bit late Abs" Tony chuckled from his prone position on the bed listening to the scientist clattering around in his bathroom.

"They won't, but I will Tony! A promise is a promise!" Abby raised her voice as the hiss of the shower came to life.

Tony smiled and shook his head as he rolled himself out of his bed. Abby the girl had a heart at least as big as her home state!

As Tony moved into his kitchen he heard the tone of the water splashing merrily away in the bathroom as Abby moved about beneath its cascade. Reaching for the faucet to fill the coffee maker, Tony's hand hovered over the tap. Was he really going to be that cruel? If it were McGee, maybe... but not Abs. Instead Tony pulled the filtered water jug out of his refrigerator and filled the coffee maker before busying himself by helping himself to some breakfast cereal until Abby had finished. A few minutes later came a sudden juddering of the pipes indicating when the young Goth had finished her ablutions. _Gotta love these old buildings_ he chuckled raising another spoonful of breakfast to his mouth.

"Toe-neee" A plaintive call came from the other room.

Tony grinned and let his spoon drop back into the bowl. Walking back into his bedroom he went across to his closet and grabbed a large fluffy bath sheet. Opening the door to the bathroom, a cloud of steam wafted across his face, making him shy away slightly until it had cleared, Tony glanced in and saw a pale white arm reaching imploringly from around the slightly opened frosted glass door of his shower. The hazing on the glass was certainly enough to protect the modesty of his house guest, but it still left little to the imagination to identify the gender of the showeree by the silhouette. He stood momentarily appreciating the artistry of the view.

"Tony!" The extended hand snapped two fingers together. "While an audience is nice, I'm not getting any drier here!"

"Oh. Right, sorry Abs." Tony replied hastily, handing the towel over before quickly closing the door. "Coffee and cereal's on the table."

Tony was rinsing his crockery when Abby emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later overnight bag in hand.

"You gonna eat?" Tony asked as Abby by past the dining room table and started collecting her things.

"Nope, running too late. The sisters are expecting me. Besides, the seven eleven on the corner next to the church hall has a fully loaded Caf-Pow machine! I'm good for the whole day."

Tony snorted as he ran his coffee cup under the water. Yep, a fully stocked Caf-Pow machine keep Abby a very happy swap meet worker. The sudden appearance of arms wrapping around his shoulder and waist gave Tony a start as he transferred his OSU mug to the drainer.

"Mmmm Tony, you're the best movie buddy a girl could wish for." The scientist said, squeezing her friend tightly.

Tony reached up and patted her hand affectionately. "Anytime. But, you're gonna be later than late if you don't move it though Abs." he reached up his wrist so she could see his watch.

"Shoot!" Abby muttered.

A lack of warm at his back and a fading cry of _Bye Tony_ were the only indications Abby gave that she had left his apartment.

oXoXoXoXo

"Hey Abby!"

Jason Watson PI, and current human pretzel, jerked from a state of semi wakeful at the bellow of mans voice. Raising his head as far as his stiffened neck would allow he grumpily looked for the source of the racket. He was getting to old for this shit. Every time he took on one of these overnight stakeout jobs he instantly regretted it the next day. At least this was one a summer job. It was even worse when it was winter. Cursing the Gods of Lumbar the PI propped himself up slightly on his elbows to look out his windows before jerking himself into an upright position almost immediately after, his hand automatically reaching for his Canon. Walking down the pavement, bag in hand was his target Ms Sciuto. She paused momentarily and glanced back up at the facade of the building.

Leaning over so he could see where she was looking, Jay watched as the man he had identified as Anthony DiNozzo leaned out over the casing of the windowsill.

"Abby!"

"What?" the girl called "Did I forget something?"

"Yeah." The young man leaned out the window holding what looked like a toothbrush and a bottle of some kind. "your very fetching, custom painted, spooky black toothbrush, and something called... Floral Acai body butter? What the hell is Floral Acai Body Butter anyway?"

"It's a moisturiser Tony, can't you spot a moisturiser when you see it?"

"Oh..." Agent DiNozzo looked about as confused as Jay felt. The lengths that women went to... the expense that women went to... He'd seen his wife's last credit card bill and had nearly died at the breadth and value of the beauty products she bought on a monthly basis. If he spent that much on beer and poker she would hang him on the wall by his unmentionables! "…not always." The young man shrugged

"Well you seemed to give McGee enough grief over his moisturising routine. And it's not like you've not had your share of ladies stay over Tony." The tone in her voice was clearly teasing her partner.

"Hey! I resemble that." The young man grinned. "So d'ya want me to bring these down or what?"

The young woman seemed to ponder his question for a second before responding. "Aren't you on the desk this afternoon?"

"Yeah, Gibbs and I are taking over from McGeek and Ziva a 1400."

"Oh, in that case, don't worry Tony. My babies need some TLC so I'm gonna be in the office this afternoon after the swap meet. Just bring em then."

"You wish is my command oh Sultana of the dark"

"My night in shining Armani!"

Watching the interplay from the remarkably uncomfortable and unsupported position in his car, Jay ran his hand over his face. Oi Vey! All this on a Saturday morning after only what, five and bit hours sleep?"

"HEY! DiNozzo!" a new voice entered the fray. Turning his head slightly Jay could make out another man leaning out his window. "It's Saturday dude! People are trying to sleep in... give the amateur dramatics a break will ya!"

Leaning out and to the right, DiNozzo waved at the newcomer. "Sorry Josh!" Below him Jay could hear and see Ms Sciuto giggling, her hand across her mouth. Casting his gaze back at his snickering house guest the kid did the same, snorting along with her. "I'll see you later Abs." he said finally. "Drive safe."

"Always do you goofball!" Ms Sciuto waved her boyfriend back inside and walked over to her car. Loading her overnight bag into the back seat, she climbed in and drove away, the purr of the engine echoing lightly in the townhouse lined street.

In his beaten up Camry Jay Watson quickly adjusted his seat before sedately driving off after her. A swap meet? What next...


	6. Chapter 5

**I hadn't intended on posting this one this evening. I've been up to my postits in reorganising my study (including the inevitable run to ... yes I know... Ikea for more bookshelves.) The good news is I can see my study floor again instead of boxes. But I can't sleep - so I thought I would post. Your feedback and comments have been amazing. It's incredibly gratifying that so many of you want to know where this story is going! Hope you enjoy my latest chapter.**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Wednesday June 22

The ER waiting room was a hive of activity around the Team leader. One summer rain shower after a hot spell and the roads had turned into an oily skating rink as demonstrated by the assorted injuries being gurneyed through the ER doors.

Snippets of information had filtered through to the Agents ears. A thirteen-car pile up on the Southwest Freeway had resulted in two fatalities and numerous other injuries, many of which were being transported here to GW for assistance. Not that NCIS's presence had any relation to the accident. Their mission today was to obtain a statement from a Marine who had been involved in what was suspected to be a gang related hit by two days before. Lance Corporal Paul Turner seemed to have been an unwitting victim of mistaken identity if reports were to be believed.

Gibbs felt the strong tug of sympathy for the young Marine's situation. Initial reports indicated that he had left his girlfriends place to go down to the convenience store on the corner of her block and had been gunned down as he left with a quart of milk. EMT's stabilised his condition and raced him to GW with a gunshot wound to his lower back. Best estimates currently had the Lance Corporal being confined to wheelchair for the rest of his life with the slug all but obliterating his spinal cord.

In a rare act of community courage two passers by had wrestled the youth who had shot Lance Corporal Turner to the ground and disarmed him. Initial interviews with DC Metro officers after his arrest implied that the youth had been ordered to take out a marine as part of a gang initiation but that the 'hit' might have been intended for someone else. McGee and Ziva were in the process of transferring the kid from central to NCIS for further interrogation. Gibbs and Tony had come to GW to get the lance corporals initial statement of the events after he came out of post op. Doctors planned to move him from GW to Bethesda as soon as he was able, but it was important for the investigation to get his statement as soon as possible.

Gibbs and DiNozzo had been cooling their heels in the reception area for over two hours now. The admin staff had promised the NCIS team leader that they would be able to speak to the Lance Corporal as soon as possible, a promise that now seemed to be at the point of fruition as a petite young nurse in theatre scrubs came over to speak to him.

"Agent Gibbs?"

"Can I see him?"

"Mr Turner's in ICU for monitoring at present. You should be able to speak to him within the hour. Dr Boulter said you could head up and wait in the ICU waiting room if you'd like? It's a little quieter than here." She grimaced apologetically as the wail of approaching sirens grew increasingly louder.

Gibbs turned to call out to DiNozzo when the ER Portico exploded to life with red and blue reflected lights of an Ambulance pulling up under it. Through the door Gibbs watched EMT's tumble from the back of the van hauling a gurney after them.

"Excuse Me," the young nurse said hastily running out after the recently arrived trauma team. "What's his status?"

"Gunshot wound! No exit! He's got decreased breath sounds in the left. Pulse ox is 92 on 15 litres." A paramedic was saying as the gurney moved inside the ER.

Around him Gibbs watched as the trauma team moved into immediate action as they hurried down the corridor.

"I've got the hemocue..."

"Trauma panel, serial crits..."

"What happened?"

"Single gunshot wound, left fifth intercostal space."

"Trauma One's ready..."

The gurney disappeared around the corner out of sight, as the sounds of another siren seemed to loom out of the darkness. _Busy night_ Gibbs thought to himself. Looking over his shoulder fully expecting to find DiNozzo on his six, Gibbs pursed his lips. DiNozzo hadn't seemed to have moved from the spot he had been since their arrival. With the exception of dashing off after group of pretty young interns when they had first arrived, Tony had stood next to the window staring out into the parking lot of GW for nearly the entire two hours like a dog watching for his master to return home.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked at his Senior Field Agent trying to get his attention.

When his usual authoritative call didn't seem to penetrate the other Agents distraction Gibbs resorted to the other tried and true method.

"Oww!"

"Y'with me now DiNozzo?"

The younger Agent flushed slightly. "Yes Boss, with you."

"Good. Tuner's been moved into ICU, should be able to interview him within the hour." Gibbs moved towards the corridor that joined ER to the rest of the hospital gesturing Tony to follow.

The ride up in the elevator to ICU was a strangely silent one, DiNozzo seemingly in a world of his own. The unusual seriousness that seemed to have settled over the former Baltimore Cop over the past few weeks had begun to concern Gibbs. Tony's usual carefree attitude seemed to have been slowly disappearing. Gibbs couldn't help but notice small almost imperceptible changes in the quality of Tony's work. Gibbs wouldn't and couldn't fault DiNozzo for his work ethic. He did what Gibbs expected of him as normal, but the eagerness to take investigating one step ahead of McGee and Ziva seemed to have been snuffed out. Tony was working on something that was in no way connected to the cases they had been processing recently.

Part of Gibbs wanted to haul the younger man aside and demand to know what the hell was going on, and try and slap his head back into the game, but until he did something that gave Gibbs the opportunity and motive his hands were effectively tied. He couldn't take him to task for doing his job, even if he was just doing his job. Something had to be going on in DiNozzo's mind; Gibbs just wished he knew what it was.

oXoXoXo

A fleeting flash of blonde hair, a snide grin over a suit of grey, a faint hint of Aramis lingering in the air; _you're going loopy Anthony_!

Tony had abandoned Gibbs the moment he thought he had caught a glimpse of Chuck in the ER waiting room. Speeding off after three interns he rounded the corner into the main lobby and ran heavily into a woman and child loaded down with gifts and balloons obviously meant as well wishes for someone. Apologising profusely he'd helped the startled woman to her feet and picked up her purse while glancing around trying not to lose his quarry.

It was too late… if it was Anderson at all, he'd disappeared – either out the lobby door or deeper into the hospital.

Slumping against the column near the window Tony raked his hand through his hair. Three weeks and he seemed to be seeing Anderson everywhere; was he really going mad?

Playing the moment over in his mind Tony let time slip effortlessly by until a forceful sting on the back of his head caught him off guard.

"Y'with me now DiNozzo?" Gibbs' tone was as biting as his slap.

Mortified that he had been so distracted on the job, Tony felt his face heat with embarrassment. "Yes Boss, with you."

Shadowing his Team Leader up to ICU, Tony pushed the possibilities to the back of his mind and refocused on the job at hand and the life of a young Marine that had been inexplicably changed forever through sheer dumb luck.

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Thursday June 30

_It was a full moon. It had to be a full moon – nothing brought out the crazies like a full moon_ McGee thought sourly.

Judging by the amount of time he had spent in the field over the last week, Tim ached for a nice cyber-based crime to come their way. But no so far the count stood at one suspected abduction which had actually turned out being the fourteen daughter of a Marine Captain running off with her seventeen year old boyfriend because her 'folks just like, didn't get it'. Three separate incidents of phencyclidine fueled violence, two assaults, and the resolution of an ongoing investigation into a series of pranks between the graduating Annapolis and West Point recruits.

Tempers were fraying and suddenly the team seemed to lack the cohesion it usually had. Matters certainly weren't being helped by their Senior Field Agents unexpected apparent lack of attention to his job.

Sure McGee complained bitterly at times at the phlegmatic attitude Tony sometimes demonstrated towards his work. He could and often was the most infuriating man Tim had ever worked with. But the kicker with Tony was that he was a genuinely great agent. Tony had worked long and hard to get the respect of Gibbs, stretching himself when the chips were down and coming through with the goods when needed.

But in the last month something had changed. Tony was just barely doing enough to keep himself out of Gibbs radar. When you were expecting to your teammate to be champing at the bit and sticking their nose in where it wasn't wanted it was disquieting to suddenly have that pulled out from under you.

Tony had been acting more and more like he had last Christmas during the Hayes case, his cool sombre strictly business mood creeping Tim out a little. McGee had caught himself several times over the past three weeks stepping up to run interference with Gibbs on Tony's behalf. The last time Tony had been this closed off and distant was when Jenny Shepherd had him working undercover on the Rene Benoit case. Casting a glance up to the mezzanine Tim caught himself pondering the games that the current Director might be playing with the team. With Ziva and Tony still out in the field, Tim made a mental note to pull the former Mossad officer aside for a chat when she got back.

As if the very thought of them acted as a spell of summoning the doors of the elevator slid aside to reveal his two team mates. Ziva was doing little if nothing to hide a throaty laugh apparently directed at Tony who trailed her, his head tilted back a large wad of Kleenex held to his nose.

"Leave it alone David!" Tony practically squawked through his obviously injured nose.

"It was entirely your own fault Tony. You were far to busy leering at those young women when you should have been watching where you were going." Ziva's eyes practically challenged Tony to deny the statement as she slid gracefully in behind her desk.

When Tony didn't McGee allowed himself a small smirk, this was more like the work environment he was used to. No reply was in fact reply enough for the junior agent – Tony hated getting caught out by the newest NCIS team member. McGee's smirk faded to a confused frown though when he noticed the lack of withering glare from the Senior Field Agent that usually accompanied these situations. In fact, Tony didn't seem to react at all. The Senior Agent had simply lowered his backpack to the ground and secured his weapon in his draw.

Changing his glance over to Ziva's desk he caught the young woman's gaze and frowned slightly. The lack of pithy comeback or expected scowl had obviously come as a surprise to her as well.

Tony off guard like this was something to be taken advantage of, the opportunity was just too good to pass up. Knowing he was taking a risk at 'poking the bear' McGee tempted fate by adding fuel to the fire.

"Brick wall?" McGee smirked.

"Lamp post." Ziva countered a faint grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

McGee nodded sagely. "Aah, well, those inanimate objects do have a history of jumping out in front of you." Tim cast a surreptitious look towards Tony's desk, trying to gauge his reaction without catching his attention.

Tony had removed the tissues from his face and wiped away the excess drying blood. The other agent now sat staring out the window, ignoring McGee completely. At first Tim thought it was Tony just being pigheaded expecting the Senior Agent to make some biting remark or turn and throw something at his teammate, but after several minutes of inactivity Tim realised it was something more. Tony genuinely hadn't seemed to have heard him. When Tony turned to look at the file in front of him, Tim saw a familiar unfocused glaze over his partner's expression. The last time he had seen Tony like that was just before the mission to Somalia, just after they thought that Ziva had been killed on the Damocles.

Drawing in a deep breath, still unresponsive to the conversations around him, Tony reached down into his backpack and drew out the team Nikon.

Sighing McGee stood up and moved over to stand next to Tony's desk, his hand outstretched waiting for the inevitable request for 'McGeek' to "do computer stuff."

Tony looked up McGee, clearly baffled by the Probies presence. "You want something McGee?"

Now it was Tim's turn to be baffled. "No, but you do don't you?"

Turning his attention to the camera back, Tony shrugged. "No, nothing I can think of."

McGee scowled. Tony was trying something on here. "C'mon Tony, you always complain when you have to load up crime scene photos. Just gimme the damn SD card." Tim gestured with his open palm once more then stopped mid motion at the expression on Anthony DiNozzo's face. He had never seen such exquisitely cold politeness on anyone, ever.

"Thanks for the offer Tim, but no – I've got this." Standing in one fluid movement, Tony stepped around McGee and collected the SD reader from the cabinet next to McGee's desk. Sliding back into his seat Tony attached the reader to his terminal and inserted the card into the reader and loaded the photos. Not as Ziva or McGee were expecting to one of the two plasmas, but to DiNozzo's monitor alone.

"Do you, need a hand with that, Tony?" Ziva asked, clearly confused by Tony's actions rising from her chair moving over to stand next to a shell shocked McGee.

Again, there was that cool politeness.

"No, thank you Ziva. I just want to check something I thought I saw at the scene."

The mood in the squad room had changed on a dime. The expectation of a bit of DiNozzo baiting by the junior agents had suddenly disappeared, leaving behind a decidedly odd feeling.

Still perplexed by their friend's actions, Ziva and McGee returned silently to their desks. Both almost wishing that Gibbs would turn up and snap Tony of whatever funk he was in.

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Friday July 1

"Agent DiNozzo?"

The guards voice caught Tony by surprise. Looking up Tony blinked to adjust his eyes from the neon glare of his monitor to the muted light of the squad room at night.

"What are you doin' here?"

Tony's brain finally caught up with his mouth. "Oh, hey Henry." Tony smiled acknowledging the older Guard.

"Burning the midnight oil?"

"Well, more like burning the…. Two thirty am oil." Tony quipped back, grimacing at the clock on his screen. "You pull the graveyard shift this week eh?"

"Someone's gotta do it. Plus it's good penalty rates. But you didn't answer my question. What are you doin' here? Agent Gibbs working you that hard?"

Tony instinctively twitched at his Boss's name. Shrugging his shoulders in an effort to cover the reaction, Tony grinned up at the Guard. "Nah… I'm here on my own dime. Tryin' to catch up on some loose ends on a couple of cases. Need to have the edge on McMIT and Wonderprobie".

"Can I say something candidly Agent DiNozzo?" Harry grinned.

"Um… sure?"

"You're a fraud!"

"Wha'dya mean?"

Harry's grin grew wider. "I hear what some people say, that you're a good agent but a bit of a goof off. I hear them question how you never seem to get caught off guard and wonder how you never seem to be in trouble with your boss."

"Oh ho ho… They're wrong there!" Tony laughed. "I'm always in trouble with Gibbs… For me it's more a case of variation of depth than anything. I'm like the tides."

"Don't believe a word of it."

Tony shrugged.

Harry narrowed his eyes knowingly. "I can't count the number of times we have seen each other like this. You here at your desk long after everyone else has gone for the night."

"I like the quiet. Let's me think, let's me work. Less… distractions."

"Mmm-hmm. So whatcha working on now?" Harry asked, indicating to the two active plasmas.

Tony sighed and stood up. "Right now, I am trying to work out if something's just a coincidence or if I am losing my mind. I keep thinking I am seeing the same guy at our crime scenes. Now I just have to find the proof." Tony ran his hand through his hair. "I was so certain that I saw him today that I walked into a lamp post." Tony winced and rubbed his nose automatically. "I'm never gonna live that one down." He muttered remembering the reaction of Ziva and McGee. "I'm reviewing our recent case files to see if I can find a connection."

Tony didn't want to admit that even he knew he was either becoming paranoid or obsessed over the possibility that Chuck Anderson seemed to be following him.

Since the incident at Reagan, Tony could have sworn he had seen Anderson and three subsequent public crime scenes NCIS had been in attendance to. Each time it had been a fleeting glance, and each time the locations had been somewhere that it was perfectly plausible for a DC Lobbyist to be. Had Charles Anderson always been popping up like two ships passing in the night, neither realising whom the other was for all this time?

Walking into the lamppost earlier in the day was the catalyst that Tony needed to solve this issue once and for all. Scanning the day's photos when he had gotten back to the squad room earlier hadn't been as productive as he wanted. Ziva and McGoo's insistence in ribbing him for the nose incident had distracted him from his objective. Add to that the return of Leroy Jethro Gibbs wanting an update of what they had learned of the actual case, Tony had written off the idea of searching further as a bad idea and had decided instead to come back in when things had quietened down for the night.

The only definitive occurrence of Anderson being at a Crime scene he could find was a shot of him in the background at traffic fatality near the Capitol about two weeks earlier. Charles Anderson could clearly be seen standing on the steps near the Library of Congress on Independence Ave. The shot, taken if Tony remembered by Ziva, clearly showed Anderson talking on his cell in the background. It was a fairly good shot of his face front on. Tony had brought the image up onto the plasma as he continued his search of the other files.

"Hmmm." Henry murmured. "I've seen that guy before."

Tony's head shot up. The amiable guard stood in front of the plasma looking intently at Anderson's image.

"Where?"

"Not rightly sure, but I've seen him somewhere."

"You sure?" Tony asked excitedly. Maybe this was the link. Maybe he wasn't imagining things.

"Yeah pretty certain…" a hint of doubt now tinged Henrys words.

_No!_ Tony prayed. _Don't doubt… doubt was bad…_ "Can you remember where?"

"Like I said, not really…" Tony's face fell. "But leave it with me Agent DiNozzo. It'll come back to me, it always does!" Henry shrugged and adjusted his belt. "Well I need to get back to my rounds. I hope I don't see you on my next round if you get my meaning."

Tony slumped back down into his chair as Henry wandered off. Was he being foolish? Was it really that important that he work this out all of a sudden? Why was he letting this get to him? This wasn't how Anthony DiNozzo acted! The now seemingly ever present feeling of eyes boring in between his shoulder blades was making him a bad agent! Gritting his teeth Tony sighed. He'd promised himself the day after the incident at the Filibuster that he was going to let it go… why then was it still getting to him?

"You're goin' round the bend DiNozzo – time to get a grip. Reality time here…"

Standing up again, Tony began pacing between his desk and Gibbs.

"You're the wild card… so let's look at the realities. Where have you seen him." Tony began an argument with his inner monologue. "Reagan Airport?"

_Get real DiNozzo… people go to the Airport all the time. Totally normal._

"When we went to interview that Lance Corporal at GW?"

The voice snorted. _A public Hospital? C'mon surely you can do better than that?_

"What about that time at Arlington?"

_Are you trying to be a smartass? It's a Cemetery, open to the public… very open to the public. _

The phantom Tony was now just messing with him. Tony felt his energy flag.

"The steps outside the Library of Congress".

_Wow buddy… great detective work there… all public places and all just fleeting glances._ _Are you sure you even saw him at all? How many tall, stocky blonde men are in DC at any given time?_

"ARRRGH!" Throwing his hands up in disgust as the inner Tony smirked at him, Anthony DiNozzo admitted defeat. "I've gotta get out of here."

The senior field agent spent the next several minutes swearing under his breath and stalking around the squad room switching various electrical items off. Five hours and he would have to be back here.

Tony groaned, wondering if curling up on an autopsy table with Bert the Hippo as a pillow was suddenly a more appealing prospect then going home. Collecting his pack and jacket, Tony shook his head. Twenty-five years and the guy was still messing with his head. Well no more. His fixation with Charles Patrick Anderson was over… finale… kaput… rifinito… no more. Taking a couple of quick calming breaths Tony tried to focus on what was good in life… what was good… hmmm…. Well it was the teams' weekend off, so that meant that if Abby was free Saturday was a movie night… a smile tugged at the corner of Tony's mouth. Movie nights with Abby always made him feel better. "_Zhank heaven, for liddle gurls…_" Tony crooned in his best Maurice Chevalier impression. "_for liddle gurls get bigger ev'ry dai_."

With a lighter spring in his step and a bit of a soft shoe shuffle, Tony tripped the light fantastic to the elevator.


	7. Chapter 6

**Thanks to all my readers who have taken the time to drop me a line for both this and my other stories. It's really great to get the feedback and I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this next bit... it definitely has a _Fooof_ moment at the end! ~ Ozzy**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Saturday July 2

Brainmatter floated in the air… Not 'brain matter' brain matter… but 'Brainmatter'. Abby was in music heaven, her latest musical acquisition blasting out of her lab stereo. Abby's choice of music was somewhat prophetic and ironic all at the same time given the case she was currently working on. Her weekend plans had been disrupted by the unexpected GSW death of a Private First Class. It may have been a Saturday, but it was looking to be a straightforward case that should be resolved less some paperwork by the afternoon.

Abby had been called in to analyse the evidence found in PFC Stephen Garrett's vehicle.

From initial reports the Marine appeared to have taken his own life. Since it was NCIS policy that all suicides were investigated as homicides until proven differently, Abby had been waiting for the Agents on duty to bring her the physical evidence.

The results had been pretty much as she was expecting. One Beretta 9 millimetre pistol, recently fired, fourteen rounds in the clip, one spent casing found at the scene, and one expended hollow point slug retrieved from the roof of PFC Garrett's 82 GMC Pickup. Blood spatter indicated that the Marine had been sitting drivers seat and had been holding the Beretta in both hands with the barrel in his mouth. The results were… predictable. A letter indicating the Marines intent to commit suicide was found next to the body in the pick up.

Ducky had sent Abby some tissue samples along with the bullet from the car for analysis that morning. Matching the bullet striations between the original and the control shot she fired was rudimentary. Both had definitely come from the PFC's sidearm.

An abundance of mad organisational and administration skills leaving no backlog of paper work found Abby twiddling her thumbs until the Mass Spectrometer came back with the results of the Marines tox screenings. She had almost given in and started rearranging her paperclips by size when her cell rang to life.

Abby grinned at the caller ID.

"Hey Tony."

"Hey Abs! We still on for tonight?"

"Absolutely! Major Mass Spec is doing his thing and as soon as I get the report written up, I'll be outta here."

"You're at work?"

"Yep, Agent Dunham's team caught a possible suicide, Ducky and I got the call."

"Dunham? Chad by way of Chad, Chad?"

"Yeah he asked to be reassigned here, so they've got him as Special Agent at Pax River."

"His history's foreign field work. Now he wants Stateside? What gives?"

"Dunno? Tired of getting sand in, y'know… places it shouldn't get?"

"Mmmm, I guess. My money's on him being back with the Jawas by Christmas."

"Maybe they can tell him where the droids went?" Abby grinned at Tony's Star Wars reference. A plaintive bleeping caught Abby's attention. "Ooh speakin' of droids… gotta go – my baby is calling me. See you around seven?"

"You bet. Tonight itsa gonna be da famous DiNozzo Special Cannelloni, justa lika momma used to make!" There was a pause at the end of the line. "Too much?" Tony asked sheepishly.

"Never Tony"

"And that's why I love you Abs! See you at seven."

Flipping her phone closed, Abby turned her attention back to her monitor. Now, if this were Gibbs' case, he would be walking through her door right about…

"Abby?"

The sound of a voice directly behind her gave the young scientist a start. Spinning on the heels of her platform boots, Abby came face to face with Ducky brandishing a case file.

"Wow Ducky! Have you been taking lessons from Gibbs?"

The ME gave her a quizzical look. "Not recently why?"

"You've just got mega stealth skills all of a sudden."

"Ahhh… you of course are referring to Jethro's uncanny ability to seemingly coalesce from nothing." Abby nodded. "Hmm, I can see your correlation, but no dear Abigail; Gibbs' mystical powers of apparition are not something I am in possession of. My abilities come from a much more mundane source." Ducky glanced at his shoes… "Rubber soled orthotics"

"Gotta love a man who looks after his feet."

"Well in my line of work, without a good pair of these… you can become a bit of a 'footnote'." Ducky quipped with heavy emphasis on the last word.

Abby scrunched up her face. "Oh that's terrible."

"It was rather, wasn't it? So Abigail, what have your children to tell us?"

Abby brought the results of the tox screen up on her monitor. "You were right Ducky. In addition to a blood alcohol level that was twice the legal limit, I found significant traces of Temazepam and Oxychodone in his system.

"Painkillers"

"Exactly." Abby toggled between her screens. "The breakdown of the contents of PFC Garrett's stomach also matches with him consuming a lot of Jacks with the painkillers… along with some pretzels, peanuts and what looks like gazpacho soup."

"Do your findings on the bullet match what I suspect?"

"That it was fired a very close range directly into the Corporals mouth? Yeah. Why do that Ducky? Why would anyone want to kill themselves like that?" Abby reached down and picked up the evidence bag containing the suicide note. "I mean the hand writing matches his… there's no question he did it? But why?"

Ducky's sad smile spoke volumes. "Why indeed Abby. Agent Dunham came to see me earlier. Their preliminary findings would indicate that the young Corporal was a troubled soul and your findings have confirmed it I'm afraid. Agent Dunham advised me that PFC Garrett recently had a relationship broken off, which in itself is upsetting… more so when the other person was his platoon leader."

"Oh."

"Quite. To hamper matters further, the other party broke it off because he weren't ready for a lifestyle change and it would appear that our PFC was very much in love with his paramour but at the same time afraid his secret would be revealed. If I was looking at this as a psychological autopsy I would hazard a guess that our young Marine might have attempted to take his own life in a less demonstrative fashion by trying to overdose, and was seemingly unsuccessful. Then in a fit of grief over the break up and his apparent inability to suicide successfully, he has resorted to a more definitive approach. It's all here in my report." Ducky gestured to the manila folder he had placed on the bench."

Abby spontaneously hugged the older man. "That's so sad… why can love be so painful?"

Ducky squeezed Abby in a hug of his own. "I don't know Abby… I just know that sometimes it is."

"I don't know what I'd do if one of us got to that point."

Ducky cupped her face in his hands. "You would move heaven and earth to help them m'dear. Now, let's move from this subject – before it gets us down. Besides, I have tickets for the Opera this evening. I don't want to be late; I think there is a spare ticket going if you want a night out Abigail."

Abby smiled. "You're so sweet to ask Ducky. But Tony and I already have plans."

"Aaaah what celluloid classics are you and Agent DiNozzo delving into this evening? Film Noir?"

"Not sure. Tony's working through a bunch of directors. I like the mystery of not knowing."

"You two are peas in a pod!" The ME laughed. "Go, we don't want Tony to be kept waiting do we?"

oXoXoXo

Abby had arrived as promised at Tony's place just before seven pm. Parking in her usual spot, Abby slid out of the front seat of her car. She'd decided after racing home that tonight was going to be a case of comfort over function and had slipped into a pair of well loved sweats she had found at one of her favourite stores many years ago, the motif was basic black with grey embossed roses down the side. They were practically thread bare she had worn them so often, but they were just the thing if Tony was cooking – elastic waisted!

Reaching back into her car to grab her contribution for this evening's entertainment, her caramel chocolate Doberge Cake from her Granny's own recipe. Balancing the cake in one hand and her bag and keys in the other, Abby shut her driver's door with a twitch of her hips. A brief juggling act later her baby was locked up tight.

Strolling up the sidewalk towards Tony's stoop, Abby sighed contentedly. It was a balmy June evening, there was a light breeze and she was breathing in the smells of summer. She smiled at the families and people she passed on the street, the good weather bringing many of them out in the early evening. Passing one tall blonde gentleman who grinned at her, Abby smiled back. A moment or two after passing him a prickly sensation between her shoulder blades made her turn back in his direction, just in time to catch him looking over his shoulder at her. A flash of familiarity flared in her mind. She had seen him somewhere before. He was casually dressed with a pair of jeans and a light linen coat over a t-shirt and a Bulls cap pulled low down over his face, but still there was still something about him that she knew… Shrugging Abby thought nothing more of it. Tony's building alone had about sixteen apartments, most of which were occupied by young professionals and many of the buildings in this street had been similarly converted. She'd probably seen him in the street before.

Abby pondered where she had seen him as she made her way up to Tony's apartment. Weird things had been happening to her lately. Ever since getting that same hinky feeling outside NCIS a couple of weeks ago, Abby had been noticing little incidents… There had been a bunch of flowers delivered to her house, daisies and carnations… the only note attached had been written by the florist from the online order, _my kinky minx_ was all it read. Abby had questioned the florist over it and they had come the conclusion that it must have been a wrong address. No one Abby knew would call her a kinky anything and certainly would know better than to send her daisies!

More weird than random flowers turning up on her doorstep was the fact she'd been getting the distinct feeling that someone had been watching her. Not that that was a particularly unusual feeling for her. A lot of people often looked at her in the street. She knew she had a style of her own – any number of young men had come up to her in the middle of the city and either complimented her or chat her up. If they didn't know her, older ladies could be often caught looking down their noses at her and of course she'd had more than her fair share of middle-aged men leering in her direction.

Abby had accepted all of the looks with her usual sunny disposition. But recently the feeling of eyes on her was more than just the cursory glance… they seemed to be more intrusive, even occasionally having a _bite_ to them. Looking around again as she started up the brownstones stoop, Abby couldn't shake the feeling that she was still being watched. Shaking herself to lose the feeling, like Bubba used to shed water post swim; Abby slipped her key into the front door of the complex and headed inside, mildly comforted by the sound of the door locking behind her.

Tony had given a key to her several years ago when he had been recuperating from his bout with _Y. pestis_. Abby had been over to check on the beleaguered agent nearly every day after he had been released from Bethesda despite Tony's protestations that he was fine by himself. He had finally capitulated and given Abby her own key after she had argued that it wasn't doing his recovery any good if he was having to jump up all the time to let her in. Tony had complained of course… but it seemed more out of expectation than genuine displeasure of his friend having a key.

Despite having a key of her own, Abby respected her friend's privacy and always knocked politely on Tony's apartment door and waited a moment before unlocking it. Okay, so she did admit – even if it was just to herself – that she had the occasional fantasy of just barging in unannounced on the off chance of perhaps catching Tony 'in the altogether' as her Uncle Teddy would have said. Abby grinned at the imagined image. Not that she ever would… but it was nice to, y'know…

"Just in time Abs!" Tony smiled as she walked through the door.

The smell of Italian cooking wafted through the air and assailed her senses. Her stomach instantly responded with a growl. "Apparently."

Tony chuckled. "I was about to ask if you brought your appetite."

"I did… and dessert!" gesturing to the package in her hands.

"Great. Let me take that."

"You might wanna put that in the refrigerator cause the pudding in it will melt otherwise."

Tony's eyes widened as he took the covered container from the Forensic Scientist. "You made your Doberge Cake?" his face cracking into a mile wide expectant grin.

"Well my Granny's Doberge, but yes."

Tony inhaled over the container and sighed lustily. "You're a bad woman Miss Sciuto!"

"I know. Wanna hand?"

"There's a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket you can open if you like. Glasses are on the table." Tony gestured towards his dining area with his chin as he took Abby's offering into the kitchen.

Abby turned to inspect the table. Simple and stylish flatware and cutlery had been set out along with two wine glasses and a tumbler. Not high dining, but certainly not diner either. People had this bizarre assumption that Tony's place would look like a frat house. All pizza boxes, beer bottles and Ikea furniture. It proved that very few had ever been to Tony's house. Anyone only had to look at Tony and appreciate how much care he took with his own appearance to understand that the same would flow on to his home. Sure, Tony readily admitted that his first place had been by Ikea, but that was more finance over lifestyle. Then again, very few people outside of the MCRT really knew where Anthony DiNozzo came from, they didn't know he had spent his formative years sleeping in a bedroom in the style of Louis XV, or that his family moved in Fortune 500 circles.

"Champagne?" Abby asked, lifting the bottle of Gonet-Medeville from the ice bucket. "Really? Shouldn't we be having a red with Cannelloni?" she called.

"Oh, I've got a nice Cabernet Sauvignon decanting for dinner; the Champagne is in honour of the first film I've selected." Tony called his voice strangely muffled.

Leaning around the entry to the kitchen, Abby grinned at the sight before her. Tony crouched down his head practically in the low set oven. A pair of Buckeye Oven mitts on his hands as he wrestled the baking tray from the oven.

"What, Breakfast at Tiffany's?" Abby guessed, frantically searching her brain for movies where Champagne featured.

"Close but no Oscar!" Tony groaned standing upright. "Vincent Minnelli… Gigi, to be exact."

"Ohhh of course… The night they invented Champagne… sweet! In that case, let's keep this until we're watching the movie and start on the red."

"Sounds good to me, you want to serve or pour?"

"I'll serve, you pour…

Dancing around each other in the limited kitchen space, like an old married couple, Tony and Abby set about their appointed tasks.

"So what else have you got for me?" Abby asked, plating the exquisite smelling cannelloni.

"I have _The Pirate_; Gene Kelly buckling swashes with Judy Garland, ummm, _The Band Wagon_; who can forget Fred Astaire Daaancing in the Daark. Oh… I think I've also got _Brigadoon_; Cyd Charice Grrrrraowlll mmm now there was some legs!

"Tony DiNozzo's musicals are us?" Abby quirked bringing the plates over to the table.

"Of course… not that Ziva or McGee ever need to know about this."

"Why, afraid it'll sink your tough guy cover"

"Sink it? It'll blow it out of the water!"

Tony held Abby's chair out so she could sit down before taking the spot opposite her.

"Well," Abby grinned raising her glass. "Here's to secrets between friends."

oXoXoXo

Abby, exceptionally happy and exceptionally full wandered back down the street towards her car with Tony escorting her as any good gentleman should. They had managed to get through _Gigi_ and _The Pirate_ before calling it a night; it was getting close to the witching hour and after a couple of drinks each, the two friends were fighting to stay awake.

Slipping her arm through his as they walked, Abby felt the peace of the evening settle over her. They walked in companionable silence along the sidewalk to where she had left her car. Opening her driver's door for her, Tony almost let her pass before grabbing her into an enthusiastic back crunching hug.

"You know you're the only girl for me Abigail Sciuto." He stated loudly, squeezing her tighter.

Abby squeezed back happily. Tony's affection, true affection, was a hard earned prize. Tony's declaration could be viewed by many as one of love, and they would be right… but not in a romantic way. Abby knew Tony loved her, and she loved him – with all her heart and both knew that the other would be there for them no matter what, always armed with that self same love.

Reaching up to take his face with both hands Abby gave Tony a tender peck on the lips.

"G'night you big fool."

"W'hell sucks missy" Tony grinned foolishly as he released her.

Sliding down into the drivers seat, Abby started the ignition as Tony closed the door for her. "Drive safe Abs." The laughing, joking DiNozzo was gone replaced by big brother Tony.

"I always drive safe Tony." Abby retorted.

"I'm just sayin – there are some real lunatics out there, and I'm not including Ziva or the Boss."

Abby gunned her engine. "I know. Ziva's been giving me lessons…" releasing the hand brake Abby drove off. "Night Tony" she called out the window as she disappeared down the street.

Strolling back up towards his house engaged in his own thoughts, Tony took fleeting interest as a black SUV pulled sedately away from the curb further up the street and drive off in the same direction as Abby. Taking his steps two at a time Tony unlocked the foyer door. He shook his head… _Ziva teaching Abby advanced driving skills… Lord help us all!_

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Abby pulled her baby into her designated bay in her apartment blocks parking lot. Space in Washington was always at a premium so Abby didn't begrudge the couple of hundred feet to her front door. She would prefer her car to be safely undercover locked behind a gate than risk leaving it out on the street all night. Opening the pedestrian access gate Abby ambled up the sidewalk toward her front door.

"You do present a nice view." A male voice said from behind her.

Startled, Abby turned to confront the speaker and blinked.

A man stood behind her, tall well built. It took her mind a moment to piece together what she was seeing before her, jeans… t-shirt and jacket… bulls cap… it was the same guy she had seen outside of Tony's earlier that night… right when she had thought someone was watching her. What was he doing here?

"So, you're Bozzo's play thing." He slurred slightly.

Bozzo? The name and the tone the guy used were vaguely familiar. He stepped closer to Abby, the overpowering smell of cologne and stale beer rolling over her. A ham sized hand reached out to touch her hair. Instinctively Abby shied from it.

"Don't be like that little minx. You've played with the Pony, now it's time to see what a stallion can do."

Abby's emotions flip flopped from mild concern to disgust. See what a Stallion could do? Oh man, who did this guy think he was? And why did she know him. Working through recent memories trying to place where the sleaze was from Abby didn't instantly notice as the man closed the distance between them and ran his hand down her arm, letting his hand rest on her hip. An image flashed in her mind, the same man… the same move… Tony coming to her side… _DiBozzo_… _Pony_… This was the louse that'd harassed them at Filibusters! What was his name? Chuck?

"Get off me!" Abby demanded flicking his hand away, taking a step back, right into the wall of a building. She hadn't realised that she had been backing away from him automatically.

"Ah sugar don't be like that… If you like what you've been getting from DiNozzo, you'll die in ecstasy from what I can offer." He purred, grabbing her upper arms with his hands, pinning her to the brickwork.

"There's nothing you can _offer_ me that I want" she snapped, attempting to bring her knee up.

Chuck was faster than Abby gave him credit for. After the run in with her steel cap boots at the bar, he was aware how feisty she could be. Pressing his body hard against hers, Abby found she couldn't get enough leverage to move her knee up.

"C'mon I just wanna play. With his body now forcibly pressed against hers he released his grip on her arms and started pawing at other parts of her anatomy. He grabbed at the side of her neck digging his fingers into her flesh.

Wiggling frantically, Abby managed to free her right hand and grab for the nerve at the base of the neck as Chuck tried to kiss her.

"BITCH" he screamed as her nails bit in, pushing back away from her his own hand lashing out wildly.

Abby flinched as pain flared along her cheekbone near her eye. It didn't matter; her distraction was enough for Chuck to have moved back a step to the side. Abby took the opportunity despite her own discomfort and retaliate with her now free knee. Her blow was true, if the sudden truncated squeal issuing from Chucks lips were anything to go by. The large man dropped to the ground like the proverbial sack of potatoes.

Not waiting to see what state he was in Abby did the one thing she could think of… run... Only to find herself suddenly falling forward after one step.

From his downed position Chuck had somehow managed to reach out at catch Abby's left foot as she tried to flee. Inertia and gravity worked against the NCIS scientist as Newton's laws of motion proved they existed.

Sprawling heavily on the asphalt sidewalk Abby felt a lance of pain shoot through her knees and wrists as they absorbed the force of her fall. Rolling immediately over onto her side, Abby stared down the length of her lithe form to the raging shadowy face of her assailant half lit under the street lamps glare. A hot scratchy burning feeling along her left thigh heralded the fact that despite his obvious pain, Chuck was using his upper body strength to try and drag Abby back to him. Lashing out with her free leg, Abby managed to scrape down the side of her left leg and smash her shoe into the knuckles around her wrist. Repeating the move in quick succession twice more was enough to get her would be attacker to let go.

Scrambling to her feet as fast as she could move, Abby bolted the short distance up the sidewalk and up the few stairs that led to the door of her apartment complex and keyed the pass code into the door. Only when the solid double glazed glass door locked behind her did she start to feel a touch of safety. Moving quickly out of the lit foyer into the lift Abby breathed a sigh of relief. With any luck Chuck hadn't seen what complex she had gone into and she wasn't hanging around to see if he was trying to find out.

How had he come to be here? Or at Tony's for that matter? Had he been visiting? Doubtfully – Abby got the distinct impression that Tony wasn't a fan that night at the Filibuster. Could it just have been random coincidence? _You know how I feel about coincidence_… she could hear Gibbs voice in her head.

Letting herself into her apartment Abby tried to settle her jittered nerves. She would have to get some antiseptic the scraps on her palms and knees… she should have some Chlorhexidine in the bathroom and some ice for her face and neck that were beginning to sting like crazy. Abby the scientist reasoned what she should do is call Gibbs… _no no no, that would be bad… Gibbs would kill him_… Abby the victim countered. She didn't want him dead… just gone… That instantly ruled out Ziva too, telling Ziva you wanted someone gone was the same as telling any other normal person you wanted them dead… Tony? She couldn't call Tony any more than Gibbs, in fact even less. He knew the guy… he'd kill him deader than Gibbs would. McGee was probably the safest bet right now to call… but it was late… and it was just a random chance meeting with a drunk louse wasn't it?

Searching for the antiseptic in her bathroom Abby caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed signs of several subcutaneous hematomas – bruises if you weren't Ducky – forming around the area where Chuck had grabbed her on the neck and arms. Plus there was the rapid puffing of the area just below her left eye. That was going to be a shiner in the next few hours.

She needed to unwind. Why did bad things always happen after good days? She'd had a really great time at Tony's – why did that loser have to ruin it!

Settling herself on the couch and putting the TV on for company, Abby pulled a rug up over her legs. Her throat itched from being grabbed and she didn't want to go to sleep cause she knew she would spend the night going over the events. She lasted close to an hour before the agitation building up got the better of her. Throwing the blanket aside, Abby stood and started pacing in her living room, 1:30am. It was silly she didn't feel safe here. This was her home… her refuge… she should feel safe here. If she didn't feel safe here, where would she feel safe?

There was only one place she could think of, her lab.

Grabbing her coat and bag, Abby rode the elevator down to the basement of her complex. There was an exit that went out through the back of the laundry that led to the service laneway between her building and the next. Abby would be able to slip out unnoticed to the street that ran parallel to hers and into the parking lot through the back entrance.

Avoiding as many lit areas as possible, while at the same time watching for any shadow that might appear to be moving, Abby safely navigated the way to her car. Pulling away from the lot Abby watched even more intently for any signs that someone might be following her.

The drive to the Navy Yard did wonders – sort of – about calming her nerves, once she had satisfied herself that no one was following her. She had almost… almost convinced herself that she was over reacting and that it wasn't the guy she'd met at Filibusters, just some boozed up low life by the time she had been flagged through the front gates of the Yard and pulled up in her assigned bay.

Spending the night in her lab wasn't something unusual for the young scientist – that's why she made sure her futon and bedding was left in the ballistics lab at all times. She would be able to calm herself here, and in the morning, when the dawn broke bright and clear, she would look at herself in the mirror and realise what a ninny she had been.

Swiping in, she deliberately avoided conversing with the guard on duty. Abby being seen at the yard in the wee small hours of the morning wasn't out of the ordinary, Security knew she kept odd hours at times. Avoiding any areas that might reveal members of the weekend staff, Abby touched the elevator button down to her lab.

The quiet hum of technology washed over her like a balm. She walked around the lab running her hand gently over her machines, their standby lights adding to the soft glow of the streetlight outside her window. Instantly the edginess she had been feeling seeped out of her.

Dragging the futon from the Ballistics lab into her office, Abby smoothed it out on the floor and retrieved Bert from the shelf, and the blanket from her bottom draw. Snuggling down, the farting Hippo performing for her comfort, Abby drew the blanket up over her shoulders. Taking several deep cleansing breathes Abby tried to quiet her mind. Her last thought as she slipped into dreamless slumber was…

When he saw her, Gibbs was gonna be so pissed!


	8. Chapter 7

**Here is chapter 7 for your reading pleasure. Thanks to everyone who has given feedback to me so far. Yes it really does help the creative juices so please keep them coming. For those who guessed that Tony was going to have some guilt issues... well, it is listed as an 'angst' fic, so I really will try to accommodate. Touches here, more to come. I've got a fairly good stock of draft material for the oncoming chapters, but I do have a couple of holes I need to fill... so I will post as fast as I can. Cheers from Western Australia ~ Ozzyols**

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Sunday July 3

An incessant buzzing was going off by Tony's head. His first instinct was to roll over and whump the living daylights out of his bedside clock. 5.32am… what the hell? It was a Sunday for the love of little green men! Worse still, it was his Sunday off! Groaning in frustration that he had forgotten to turn his alarm off Tony began to struggle up onto his elbow. Only when he peeled back a second blurry eyelid did he notice that the item glowing with illuminated urgency wasn't his clock… it was his phone. Fumbling for the cell on the bedside table Tony saw the caller ID.

"Yeah Boss?" He mumbled as he flopped back down onto the bed.

"We're up." Was all the former Marine said.

"You're kidding right?" Tony struggled to right himself once more.

"Nope."

"But Denham's team is on call."

"Not anymore." came Gibbs acerbic reply.

A unbidden memory flashed in his mind, a weekend off, Paula Cassidy lunging after a mad suicide bomber through a trick wall… Tony felt his throat tighten instinctively. "What happened?" Genuine concern touched his voice.

"Nothing like that DiNozzo. Bad Mushu… They all got admitted to GW around 1am with food poisoning."

"Oh."

"Yeah. We're back up this weekend. Squad room thirty minutes."

"On it Boss."

Tony shut his phone down and raked his hands through his hair. So much for sleeping in this morning! At least there was one good thing about a weekend shift… no suits… clothes did make the man, but damn, if he was going to have his weekend ruined by killer kung-pow he was going to be comfortable doing so. Slipping on a clean pair of jeans and a polo shirt, Tony grabbed a pair of tube socks from his bedside draws and his trainers.

Comfortably attired, Tony checked the time on his phone before sliding it into his belt clip. 5:40, the Boss was probably already there.

Cursing Dunham, Tony collected his gun and credentials from the small safe in his living room. Chad Dunham had been where? Korea and all points west of Timbuktu eating god knows what on a regular basis and he gets taken out by cheap chow mien? Tony gritted his teeth and thought about the overtime; Nah, that still didn't help.

Grabbing his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter where he had dumped them last night, Tony scanned his apartment. The dishes from dinner were still stacked neatly in the sink, the living room needed straightening… things he didn't bother with last night, cause he knew he had today off to do them… fat chance! Sighing, Tony turned the lights off as he headed out the door.

Flicking his phone open Tony hit the speed dial, "I'm on my way now Boss."

oXoXoXo

"Abigail did I leave my report on Private Garrett's demise up here last night?" Ducky walked into the Forensics Lab, raising his voice to be heard over Abby's elevated taste in music. "I could have sworn I had it in my draw, but I can't seem to find it. Mr Palmer recalled that I might have had it with me when I came to see you about the… blood… results…" The ME's voice trailed off unexpectedly as he suddenly realised he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard. The Lab was uncommonly quiet.

At first Ducky thought Abby must have stepped out of her office, probably for a refill of that over-caffeinated drink she was so fond of. "That girl is on a fast track to life time of blood pressure medication if she keeps this up" Ducky mumbled under his breath.

About to turn and seek her elsewhere, Ducky glanced into office behind the lab. Frowning Ducky stepped further into the lab to look through the glass partition door. There, at her desk, her back to the lab, her head in her hands sat everyone's favourite Goth. Ducky's frown deepened. This wasn't like Abby at all.

The door bleeped and whooshed as he stepped over the threshold into the inner office. Even then the Forensic Scientist didn't stir.

"Abby?" Ducky call softly in case the girl was sleeping.

"Hey Ducky" Abby replied without turning around.

The sound of her voice was enough to have every hair standing up on the back of Ducky's neck. Abby's normally throaty lilt was enough to make the best of men's' libidos do odd things and their legs go weak at the knees. But today, the huskiness of her voice had a far different quality. Rougher… drier… and infinitely sadder.

Looking around the lab Ducky noticed the futon Abby kept in her office had been spread out on the floor with Bert and a blanket.

What had happened? Abby was going to Anthony's last night. What could have possibly transpired that would bring Abby back to sleep at the lab?

Moving over to stand just behind her to the left Ducky placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and was horrified to feel her flinch beneath the touch.

"Abby?" Real concern gnawed at his chest and tainted his voice.

Almost imperceptively, Abby turned her head a few degrees to the right. Obviously trying to avoid any chance that Ducky could see her face.

"Abigail" Ducky admonished in his best stern, yet caring, uncle voice. "Look at me."

"I can't." There was a faint crack in her already raspy voice.

"Why not?"

"You'll get mad and call Gibbs."

The gnawing in his stomach froze to a small knot of fear. When it came to Abby not much would make him mad… certainly not enough to warrant calling Jethro in.

With a reassuring squeeze, he gently turned the chair around.

Ducky felt his eyes widen and the blood rush from his face. Swallowing hard, a cold anger flowed through him. Reaching over the desk Ducky picked up the receiver and stabbed at an extension number. It was answered after only two rings.

"Jethro? Abby's lab! Now!" he snarled and hung up.

oXoXoXo

Gibbs frowned at the receiver in his hand. The former marine could count on one hand the number of times Ducky had been that terse with him. The fact he was calling from Abby's lab was even more concerning.

"What's up Boss?" DiNozzo cocked his head to one side.

"Ducky's pissed; and in Abby's lab… that's all I know. C'mon DiNozzo." Gibbs gestured for his senior agent to follow him.

"On your six boss!"

oXoXoXo

"What's going on Duck?" Gibbs demanded stepping through the lab threshold.

Tony's forward motion was arrested suddenly when he ran into his Boss's back. Grimacing as he expected Gibbs to turn around and clock him one, Tony peeked a look through squinted eyes when the thwack wasn't forthcoming.

Gibbs had just propped in the middle of the room. Looking past Gibbs shoulder, Tony saw _why_ his boss had stopped so suddenly.

Abby stood her back to the bench that housed her computers. The young scientist's eyes were steadfastly focused on her torn and bloodied sweatpants and converse boots, her face shadowed by her heavy fringe. Tony frowned. There was something wrong with the picture his eyes were seeing. Why was she still wearing what he had seen her in the night before?

Abby steadfastly refused to meet their eyes, burying her chin deeper into her chest, casting more shadows over her face. But even with the shadow, Tony and Gibbs could not ignore the purpling of a heavy bruise running up her left cheekbone, her left eye blackened not by mascara, or the finger shaped bruises around the soft tissue on the right hand side of her neck.

Ducky hovered protectively at her side.

Instinctively Tony took a step back, trying to find his balance.

"Abs?" he all but whispered. _What the hell had happened?_ His mind reeled. He had only seen her last night.

"What happened Abby?" Gibbs echoed Tony's unspoken thoughts, his voice was measured… flat even, to Tony's ears. The Senior Agent knew that tone. If Ducky had been pissed; then the only way to describe Gibbs was incandescently furious.

"See," Abby croaked and whimpered looking at Ducky. "I told you he'd be angry."

"But not at you my dear." Ducky patted her arm reassuringly. "Are you Jethro?"

The question was pointed and seemed to do the trick. The fury in Gibbs eyes seemed to dissipate to be replaced by concern.

"Has Ducky seen to those?" Gibbs asked quietly, moving over to inspect Abby's cheek with a feather-light touch.

"mhmmm" Abby nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"And these?" Gibbs turned Abby's hands palms up to reveal red, scabbing asphalt burns.

"As soon as we're done here Jethro." Ducky said quietly.

Gibbs nodded at his ME and turned back to the upset scientist. "You gonna tell me what happened?"

"It was nothing really."

"You want to try that again Abs?"

"No, really. It was just some random guy. I think he was drunk and he just tried to get a bit friendly."

"And where were you when this 'friendliness' happened?"

Abby mumbled her answer quickly, glancing furtively away.

Gibbs clenched his teeth harder. He wasn't going to like this answer. Neither apparently was Ducky nor DiNozzo, as both men had stepped forward to practically barricade Abby in between them.

"After I… …Tony's…ment…"

"Still can't hear you Abbs"

"Alright! It was after I left Tony's apartment last night when I got home!"

Gibbs caught the obvious jolt of shock from Tony. While it was news to Gibbs that his forensic scientist had been had his Senior Agents apartment the previous night, it wasn't much of a surprise – the two shared a passion for films that escaped the former Marine, and it was not unusual for the pair of them to stay up to the wee small hours watching some random marathon of films. Gibbs glanced at Tony in way of confirmation.

"Oscar winning directors – we're up to Vincent Minelli. Gigi."

"Didn't need to know that DiNozzo."

"The bruising does seem to be superficial Jethro, and the scrapes on her knees and palms will be sore for a few days but are also superficial. Abigail insists that she's fine."

"I am Gibbs, truly. My gut's just not as good as yours I guess. I mean, the first time things felt hinky I was totally watching out for everything, I just kinda pushed it to one side after that, ignored it thinking it would go away."

"The _FIRST_ time?"

Abby flinched at the sudden change in volume from her Boss.

"You mean this happened before Abigail?" Ducky added.

"Um… No… not exactly."

"Abs!" Tony admonished.

"Et Tu Tony?"

"Yeah me too. This could be serious Abby."

"How long's this been hinky Abby." Gibbs pressed.

Abby didn't dare try and fob this one off. The look in the eyes of her three friends was enough to cower the most steely of resolve. It was really kinda sweet that they were getting all protective. But if she told them, she knew it was going to cause even more problems. _So, as Sister Rosita would say… "Abigail – Lying is a sin… Omission is SOP!" _ Abby drew in a deep breath and sighed.

"About a month I guess? Give or take a week?" Abby watched Gibbs eyes narrow to icy blue slits. _Oooh boy_. "but, not like you think – last night was the first time anyone actually, y'know – touched me. But someone could've been following for about a month. Nothing solid. Just that feeling you get."

"Where?"

Abby pointed vaguely to her intestinal track.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "No. Where abouts where you when you first noticed the feeling?"

"Oh, when I left here one night after work."

"On the base?"

Abby nodded as Gibbs suddenly pivoted on his heel and stormed towards her door.

"DiNozzo, you stay with her got me?

"Gibbs, Gibbs" Abby cried. "What are you going to do."

"Get McGee down here to find the bastard stalking you, wha'd'ya think?"

Abby, Tony and Ducky watched their furious leader punch at the elevator call button.

"Oh dear." Ducky stated with simple aplomb. "If you will excuse me, I think I should go with him or I might have other patients to deal with. You come and see me after this is all finished Abigail." He wagged his finger at the girl as he hastily headed for the door. "Jethro… wait…"

Silence hovered in the air between the two friends. Tony studied his friend closely, the bruises, the scrapes. Was that all she was revealing. The potential thought chilled Tony to the very core.

"Abs why didn't you tell me you thought you were being followed?" he asked gently stepping up next to her.

It tore at Tony to speculate how often Abby had been left alone and potentially exposed to danger in the past month. He ground his teeth. A month… she said it had been a month since it started. A horrible suspicion began to form in the mind of the seasoned investigator. "You know who did this don't you?"

Abby's steadfast silence was confirmation enough to the Agent.

Abby watched Tony carefully from under her lashes, of all the people to be left along with. She could deliberately avoid answering any of his questions but she knew it'd be futile. Tony was anything but dumb…

"Hey Ab's I need you to look at me." Tony placed his crooked index finger under her chin and gently raised her face so she was eye to eye with him. Staring into Tony's soft, silent gaze, she suddenly for some inexplicable reason felt… guilty. Closing her eyes she felt two fat tears fall onto her cheeks. With a little sniff she looked back up into Tony's face and watched as she saw Tony put two and two together and the penny dropped. Concern turned to anger and anger turn inward into something else. She could almost see the mental shutters snap down in Tony's mind as he fought to contain the emotion.

This was why she didn't want to tell him. Abby knew far to well where this was going to lead. Tony would end up doing something monumentally, heroically stupid and get himself in a heap of trouble.

"Tony…" she started, only to be cut off when Tony raised his hand.

Standing next to his friend, Tony pushed his suspicions to one side letting the investigator in him take over. There was something out of place, a small detail in the lab he was missing. Breathing in, a faint tang hit his nose.

A smell: That's what he had missed before – he had been so concerned with Abby's well being he had completely missed the sense memory that registered in the back of his mind the moment he had moved closer to her. Sniffing the air delicately, Tony leaned forward. Catching the faint aroma once more closer to Abby he moved around to stand behind her. Lowering his face to that point where her neck met her shoulder he breathed deeply, jasmine and bergamot faintly lingered near the edge of the bruise. An icy edge shivered through his body. _Anderson_…

"DINOZZO!" His boss's roar caught him by surprise. "What the hell d'you think you are doin'?"

Tony jerked into an upright position. "I just wanted to…"

A furious Gibbs and dumbfounded McGee and Ziva stood in the doorway.

"Just wanted to what DiNozzo? Violate Abby's personal space even more?"

Both the Scientist and the Agent stiffened at the word violate.

"Boss I would never…" Tony started at the same instant Abby cried "Tony didn't…"

"I don't want to hear it DiNozzo. Abby's been attacked and I come back here and you are nuzzling her neck? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your ass out the door?

"Boss, I'm sorry, I was distracted by…"

Gibbs would admit later that his anger had been excessive and grossly misdirected, his concern for Abby's wellbeing outstripping his sense of reason momentarily. It was unfortunate that his Senior Agent was the one to bear the brunt of his irrational rage.

"Distracted? DiNozzo you've been distracted for the past month. Your reports are late, your minds been off god knows where, your work's getting sloppy."

McGee stood in stunned silence at his boss' tirade against the Senior Agent. Sure, he had be more than a little startled to walk in and see Tony with his face buried in the crook of Abby's neck, but Gibbs' reaction was kinda excessive – even by Gibbs' standards.

Gibbs moved up into Tony's personal space like a DI on the rampage with a grunt. "And now, she's been attacked coming back from _your_ place. Do I need t'make a list for ya?" he snarled.

McGee could see that Gibbs rebuke hit Tony hard.

"Sorry Boss". Tony replied meekly.

"Go wait in the squad room." Gibbs fumed. "…and be thankful I don't bench you." McGee watched Tony's face harden into a cold, pain glazed mask. When he spoke next the Senior Field Agents voice was devoid of all emotion.

"Thank you Boss" But there was no thanks in the words. Tony moved to leave, brushing passed Tim on the way out. Automatically he reached out and touched his friend lightly on the forearm. Tony glanced down at it.

"Tony…" McGee whispered quietly.

"It's fine."

Their eyes met and in that moment Tim knew that it was anything but.

"Gibbs!" Abby blurted as Tony's elevator door closed. "What's gotten into you? Tony wasn't doing anything wrong? He was just trying to sniff me!" Ziva and Gibbs arched eyebrows in almost comic unison. "Okay, so that didn't come out exactly how I intended it. What I mean to say is, the guy who grabbed me had a pretty powerful cologne on, like all over his hands. Tony was just trying to work out if he could recognise it. Y'know… to help us find out who… he… was…"

Abby realised her mistake a moment too late. Tony hadn't sworn them to secrecy about the run in at the Filibuster the previous month, but none of them had mentioned it to Gibbs – so the team leader was blissfully ignorant to the altercation that had taken place. But Ziva and McGee weren't.

"Aramis?" Ziva questioned, her gaze boring into Abby. Trust Ziva to recognise her hesitation and the cologne Charles Anderson had been practically drowning in.

"ummm…" Abby shrivelled under her stare. _Redirect… gotta redirect_… she was going to have enough grief from Tony and Ziva – and probably McGee… and Jimmy… but the idea of having to contend with Gibbs as well… "Hey, I've got the results back from Corporal Garrett's blood. His BAC was super high, I mean if he had breathed on you he would have stripped paint! I also found traces of…"

"ABBY!" Three voices shouted in unison.

"It was nothing Gibbs, really!"

"I'll be the judge of that. Now will one of you tell me what's going on, or do I need to talk to DiNozzo again?"

"NO!" This time Abby joined in the call.

"Well… I'm waitin'."

oXoXoXo

Tony stalked back up to his desk and opened his draw before slamming it closed again. Despite assumptions to the contrary Tony very rarely showed outwards bursts of anger. But this time he just couldn't stop it.

That bastard had gone after Abby.

Tony hadn't felt this much anger in a very, very long time. He'd had the month to reconcile his own feelings about Chuck Anderson and to set aside the fears of his childhood. He had confronted bigger, badder and far more lethal opponents than that slime ball. A CEO and corporate lobbyist. Nice job for a strong-arming Neanderthal like him.

Dropping into his seat Tony slumped forward on his desk, elbows resting on the surface, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, letting his fingers claw instinctively at his hairline.

He wanted to be angry with Gibbs for chewing him out, but he just couldn't. He knew his work had been crap since he had run into Anderson. He hadn't been as focused as he needed to be. He felt more like he had when they had thought Ziva had been killed on the Damocles than he cared to admit. Gibbs had every right to rip him a new one. But it ended here and now.

"Damn it!" Tony grappled to control the fury beginning to bubble under the surface.

Abby still hadn't confirmed that it was Anderson who had approached her the previous night, but that was a moot point from where he was standing. If Anderson had been stalking Abby then perhaps Tony's over active imagination of him being at every crime scene wasn't so far fetched after all.

Tension grated at him. He was effectively tied to his desk for now. With Gibbs and the others looking after Abby's needs, he couldn't go chasing off to find that miserable piece of filth. Well he could, but he wouldn't. If for no other reason than it would give Gibbs just cause to take him out of the field completely, and Tony wanted nothing more than to be there when they brought this asshole in.

So for now he would sit and revisit all the cases he had worked between the Filibuster and last night. If he could prove a link, then regardless on whether Abby was willing to press charges – not likely – he would have something to go on.

oXoXoXo

"DiNozzo!"

Gibbs' voice startled the senior field agent. Tony was watching traffic camera footage from the accident at the library of congress for the time stamp after NCIS had turned up, trying to see if Anderson was in any of them. He had collected every scrap of footage, film and documentary evidence he could to go back over. Engrossed in the footage he'd failed to hear his team leaders return.

Looking up from his monitor, Tony came eye to eye with his boss's frosty glare.

"With me."

Behind Gibbs, Tony could see Ziva moving silently towards her desk, her expression completely blank, impossible to read. Tony would say one thing for Mossad. They'd make fantastic poker players!

Rising smoothly to his feet Tony followed Gibbs towards the elevator. So the _with me_ equated to _my office_ which in turn meant_ the elevator_. The sardonic side of Tony smirked, one day someone would really give him an office and then they'd all be in trouble.

The doors to the elevator opened and three jovial NCIS analysts looked out at the frosty scene in front of them. Tony didn't recognise them but apparently they certainly seemed to recognise who wanted to use the elevator. The laughter stopped abruptly and the three alighted the car double time. Tony doubted the squad room was the floor they had been aiming for, but coming face to face with Gibbs in this mood – Tony bet they would have jumped out a fifth storey window if it had been the only option left to them.

As expected, the second Tony and Gibbs stepped into the elevator car and the doors closed, Gibbs slammed his hand over the emergency stop button. Had the situation not been so precarious for Tony, he might have made a quip about the hassle Gibbs impromptu meetings had on the maintenance staff and how he always imagined the repair guy from _The Secret of My Success_ forever trying to fix the faulty elevator.

But his brain acted before his mouth… for once Ziva might say… This was not the time or the place.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" Gibbs growled, inches away from Tony's face.

"About Abby? I only found out when you did Boss." The look Gibbs awarded Tony could cut sheet metal. He wasn't talking about what had happened to their forensic scientist and he knew it. Tony ran his tongue across the back of his teeth trying to find the right words. He finally settled on "There was nothing to tell Boss. I had a run in with someone I went to school with, and that was the end of it – or so I thought."

"So you thought?"

The weight of intensity on those three words sent a micro shiver down Tony's spine "Yeah. I was in the dark as much as you when I walked into the lab this morning." Tony responded as Gibbs glared at him. "You think I would knowingly put Abby in danger?"

"No, but I think you're not tellin' me something."

"Like what?"

The muscle along Gibbs jaw rippled as the older man visibly clenched his teeth. "You play the clown DiNozzo, but a fool you're not. Now are you gonna tell me whatever it is you're sittin on?"

Now it was time for Tony's jaw to ripple as his teeth ground against each other. No time like the present to 'fess up."

"After running into Anderson and the bar, I thought I'd seen him at some of our other crime scenes. But I couldn't be sure. I just put it down to mistaken identities." Tony shrugged. Now he said it out loud he realised how foolish his self made case had been.

"You check the footage from the scenes."

"With a fine tooth comb. I can only get one shot that seems to be Anderson outside the Library of Congress about two weeks ago at that car crash we attended. Other than that, it's all just supposition." Tony shrugged.

Before Gibbs could respond the cell at his waist trilled into life.

"Gibbs." The former marine listened intently for a moment, then reached over to switch off the emergency stop. "Got it." Snapping the phone shut, he punched the Squad Room floor number. "Drowning Buzzard Park; Marine Captain and his eight year old son." The doors to the elevator opened. "We'll finish this later." Gibbs glared at Tony before turning towards the bullpen. "Ziva call Ducky tell him to meet us at Buzzard Park. DiNozzo, get McGee from Abby's lab and meet us in the garage."

With feet feeling like they were encased in lead, Tony walked over to his desk and picked up his pack. No, this wasn't finished with by a long shot.


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey all my lovely readers... This is what I am calling a Tidbit chapter. Tax Time is upon us in Oz and I am flat tack at work, so my editing schedule is a bit up the grand whazoo... I have written more I promise. So here is at least a little something to keep people going, of course reviews and feedback always make for a good reason to write more! Cheers Ozzyols!**

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McGee held the drowned Captains index finger to the reader.

"Captain Andrew Hawkes. Returned from deployment in Iraq two months ago."

Ziva looked at the notes she had in her hand.

"Witnesses, including his wife Tenille, said that their son Scott, lost his footing has he was jumping from the boat to the walkway as they prepared to dock. He slipped on a rope and hit his chin on the edge of the walkway before falling into the water. Captain Hawkes was seen diving in after him immediately. Neither resurfaced. Bystanders tried to find them, and raised the alarm. Their bodies were found an hour ago. Metro PD called us when the found out he was a Marine."

Tony looked down at the bodies of the Captain and his son. How quickly a simple Sunday family outing could turn into a tragedy.

Ducky and Palmer were knelt over the body of the young teenage boy.

"Fractured C4 and C5 vertebrae I suspect." Ducky sighed. "And see here Mr Palmer, see how the tissue under the chin has started to discolour. What does this suggest to you?"

Palmer tilted his head in thought. "That when he fell his chin connected with the foot rail of the dock compressing the vertebrae snapping the neck. Death would have been instantaneous.

"Quite so Mr Palmer, well done. We will of course confirm your suspicions when we get the poor lad back to Autopsy."

"What about the father Duck?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky turned away from the teenager towards the dead marine. "His demise is not so clear, but I suspect that it will be a simple case of drowning. The poor man just witnessed the death of his child, but I would hazard a guess that he did not know that at the time and probably thought he was unconscious. The Captain would have gone in after him trying to rescue the boy. Panic probably ensued and drowned as a result. Again, my findings will be much clearer when I get them back home. Mr Palmer, would you be so kind as to get the gurneys."

"Right away Doctor."

"A tragic loss." Ducky stood shaking his head. Sidling up to the Team Leader, Ducky watched as Ziva and Tony moved off to continue interviewing Tenille Hawkes. "Jethro have you had a chance to speak to Anthony yet?"

"Not completely."

"I quizzed Mr Palmer about it after I left Abigail. He's filled me in on some details, but I suspect there is more to this than is being let on."

"Yeah me too Duck."

Both men glanced across to where the Agent and Ziva stood in conversation with the Captains wife at the squad car, a conversation that seemed to be being conducted by Ziva alone as Tony scanned the surrounding area.

Gibbs glanced in the direction his agent was looking. Rule 35… Always watch the watchers…

oXoXoXo

Tony could feel himself getting distracted from his job at hand. His gut was churning as it had been since they had left the Navy Yard. He wasn't sure if it was remnants of the conversation he had with Gibbs in the elevator, or the expectation of the one yet to come. Either way, it was now getting in the way of him doing his job… again…

Tony felt guilty over his lack of attention to the case at hand and his readiness to let Ziva do the heavy lifting, but Ziva wasn't the dispassionate Mossad officer who didn't do interviews without the threat of torture or worse any more. Five years under Gibbs careful tutelage had seen her blossom into a discreet and understanding investigator more than capable of handling a grieving widow.

Turning his attention to the surrounding area, Tony scanned the scene. An accident had happened and human nature had moved into high gear. Buzzard point and the marina were a popular weekend destination, so inevitably there would people, potential witnesses… and crowds. Tony mused, for an enlightened species; the urge to rubberneck at the expense of someone else's misfortune was still pretty damn strong.

Glancing around the milling onlookers crowding behind the police tape, Tony let his conscious mind wander to let his unconscious work its magic. Zoning out at a crime scene was a sure-fire way to earn a well placed slap to the back of the head, but during his years as an investigator Tony learned to appreciate that the mind and the eyes saw more than sometimes the brain could readily process in its normal functionality.

Besides, he could always fall back on rule 35: Always watch the watchers.

His let his eyes drift across the crowd registering expressions on the onlooker's faces ranging from curiosity through to horror. When his gaze fell on a small cluster of men standing off to one side, he did a quick double take. Concern and idle interest had given way to leering, hate filled faces. A red haze of fury descended instantly over Tony. With an animal snarl Tony took off towards the leering smile of Chuck Anderson.

The guttural exclamation of her partner caught Ziva off guard. Turning her attention from her task at hand, Ziva saw Tony take off like a like a cheetah towards the police line and crowds beyond it. Following his line of sight the former Mossad operative instantly recognised the target of Tony's anger.

"Gibbs!" she yelled, drawing the Leaders attention and pointing after Tony.

Looking up from the gurney being escorted past him by Ducky and Palmer, following his agent's lead Gibbs swung his head around in time to witness Tony barrelling towards a specific group of onlookers.

Behind him came a startled inhalation of breath from Palmer. "That's him, that's the guy from the bar."

Gibbs swore. "Ziva with me!" He barked at his other Agent taking off after Tony.

Instantly Gibbs recognised that even at a flat out run neither of them would reach Tony before he got to Charles Anderson. The power and ferocity behind Tony's movements showed an intensity that Gibbs instantly recognised. He had made those exact same types of movements 20 years ago across sun-scorched earth in Kuwait after hearing about the murder of Shannon and Kelly. If Tony was in the same headspace that he'd been in back in 91, all Gibbs could hope to do was to stop his Senior Field Agent from killing Chuck Anderson.

The landscape skewed in the mind's eye of the former Baltimore cop, telescoping away frustratingly making the distance seem to grow further rather than closer. Before him in the periphery of his vision other forms emerged. "MAKE A HOLE!" Tony bellowed, automatically falling back on the terminology he had gained during his days as Agent Afloat.

The proximity to the Navy Yard and the marina meant that a few people in the crowd understood the roared command and got out of the irate agents way. Unfortunately however most didn't and it resulted in Tony ploughing through them like Abby's bowling ball on league night. Human pins aside, Tony still had enough momentum to slam bodily into his former school nemesis.

There was a solid, entirely satisfying, _thunk_ of flesh meeting flesh as Tony rammed in to Charles Anderson with both men toppling gracelessly to the asphalt. Tony realised he had the advantage of speed and agility while the larger Chuck had Tony on size and strength. If this devolved into the full on bust up he was expecting it to, then Tony knew the only was he would win would be being smart about his a chosen strategy and second guessing his opponent. Unfortunately strategy wasn't something Tony was in any position to coherently consider from the moment he had seen Chuck and the over riding need to hurt this man came flooding to the surface.

Landing heavily Tony immediately placed himself as best he could over his quarry, his left forearm placed strategically across the bigger mans neck. "You bastard! You couldn't come after me so you go after my friends?" Movement in his periphery had Tony's hand flying to his shoulder holster and freeing his Sig. His left forearm pinned his former classmate to the parking lot while his right instinctively trained the barrel of the gun at the potential threat coming in from the side. Flicking a lightning glance up, Tony recognised the two guys who'd been in the bar with Anderson over a month ago. Both men had frozen in shock, hands instantly raised in surrender at the sight of the gun.

Satisfied that they weren't going to pose a threat, Tony turned his attention back to the grinning man pinned beneath him. The sight of that lecherous grin only sought to increase Tony's anger, his mind vacillating between keeping his weapon drawn, or holstering it and beating the living snot out of that face. At some level sanity intervened and he felt himself secure his weapon.

"You could never follow through, could you Pony?" a gurgled rasp issued from Anderson's mouth.

Digging his forearm in a little deeper, Tony clenched his right fist and drew it back. Suddenly the only thing standing between his knuckles and Charles Andersons face was an unexpected commanding grasp snaking around his wrist staying his movement. Tony didn't need to look down to see whose hand it was.

"_DINOZZO_!" Gibbs barked. "Stand down!"

Dropping into his field of vision, Tony saw Ziva move into position to his left kneeling down so that she was in his immediate eye line. Instinctively both Gibbs and Ziva had done enough to break Tony's unprecedented fixation of Anderson.

The moment broken, Tony eased his weight from Anderson neck and felt Ziva slip her arm through his and pull him back to his feet, Gibbs never letting his own vice like grip on Tony's right wrist.

"You've lost it DiNozzo." Anderson half laughed as he staggered to his feet. "Granted, looks like you might have finally grown a set by the looks of things… but you think that changes anything with us? You know the rules… and they haven't changed, I like what I get and I get what I like." Anderson casually grinned at the two men who had backed off some twenty metres away.

Gibbs bristled at the sight of them.

At Anderson's sneering barely veiled comment Gibbs felt Tony stiffen beneath his grasp and prepared himself for round two. Gibbs didn't make snap judgements, but he trusted his gut. And his gut was telling him to let Tony rip this guys esophagus out with his bear hands.

It was to Gibbs surprise then when the tense energy he had felt a moment ago radiating out of every fibre of DiNozzo's being, suddenly dissipate as quickly as it had risen. Glancing at Tony Gibbs tried to read his Senior Agent was up to and predict which way this was going to play out.

Drawing himself to his full six foot two, the former Cop simply adjusted the front of his jacket effectively shrugging the restraining hands of Ziva and Gibbs from his arms and quietly turned and started to walk back towards the crime scene. Gibbs heard Ziva let out and explosive breath. The gathered crowd around the incident began murmuring nervously.

Gibbs had started to let his guard down and divert his attention to Tony's prey when he saw Tony turn back towards them after only a few steps.

Several of the onlookers involuntarily stepped back, their faces draining of colour and Gibbs for one of the few times in his life fought hard not to follow suite.

The animal ferocity lurking in Tony's eyes as he moved back towards Anderson seemed lethal. When the Agent finally spoke it was in quiet measured tones.

"You're right Chuckles… Nothing has changed between us. If you have the balls you can come after me whenever you like. But I promise you this. If you ever touch her again, I swear I will make sure it is the last thing that you ever do! I will hang you from your heels on the top of the Lincoln Memorial and skin you alive!" Tugging at his jacket cuffs, Tony looked over at Gibbs and Ziva with eyes as cold and frozen as the Potomac in dead of winter… and no more human. Pivoting back on his heel, Tony stalked back towards the van.

No one spoke, or dared move until they were out of sight.

"He couldn't really do that, could he?" Ziva all but whispered to her boss in stunned awe.

Gibbs felt a cold shiver run through his veins. Never in ten years of working with Tony had he ever seen anything like that.

"In the mood he's in right now? Yeah – not only would he probably do it – but he probably wouldn't bother using a knife! Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>AN... little shout out in that final Tony statement to one of my all time favourite authors... Anne Bishop!**


	10. Chapter 9

**The combination of an unexpectedly slow day, an extra hour off the phones and a pretty well written draft has resulted in me being able to post this bit before heading for the land of Nod.**

**To all my UK readers I hope this finds you safe and well... My wish is that the cops over there could get their hands on that radioactive isotope that Abby developed in "Cloak" to beanbag shoot the idiot Rioters! **

**On other news, the feedback I have been getting is really very gratifying! Thanks to everyone who has written and, special thanks to the guys who have chosen to tag this story as one they would like to continue to read - you guys rock! But for now, I will leave you with this bit... and hope you will smile and picture what Tony's reaction would be to the last bit of this chapter! ~Ozzy.**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

The scene was processed and the team was preparing to leave.

McGee found Tony standing down at the dockside looking out over the water seemingly lost in thought. It was a bit off putting seeing the older agent like this, he was so… still… Tony was never still. Tim had watch Tony crash at his desk on any number of occasions, but had never seen him truly still. On more than one occasion Tim had chuckled to himself how his teammate seemed to resemble Jethro when he was in the middle of a dream. But this was different, never in his time with NCIS had Tim seen Tony quite like this. Even after Kate had died.

"Whad'ya want McGee?" Tony asked, apparently channelling Gibbs, without turning to see who was behind him.

"Um… The Boss… we're done here… Tony, I…"

"Don't bother M C Stammer, you can't say anything I haven't already thought." There was a sharp coolness to Tony's voice.

"He could charge you Tony."

Tony turned; his eyes hard. "I hope he does."

The admission took McGee by surprise.

"Tony! You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" grey-green eyes narrowed to dangerous slits

"You assaulted and threatened him. That's serious."

"Well at least I have something to aspire to." Tony quipped under his breath as he swept past a clearly startled McGee and walked back up towards the MCRT van.

Tim wanted to believe that what Tony had said was a joke. It had to be; even Tony wouldn't be dumb enough to cross that line. Was he?

Tony had already reached the van and was in the process of packing away the final items by the time McGee had collected his jumbled thoughts walked back.

Ziva surreptitiously watched both her partners from the corner of her eye. Catching McGee's worried expression, Ziva discreetly gestured for McGee to join her on the other side of the van to talk. Deliberately moving out of both Gibbs and Tony's line of sight the two junior agents attempted to compare notes.

Their clandestine activities were interrupted before either had the chance to open their mouths as Gibbs appeared from the far side of the van.

"McGee, you and Ziva take the van back to the Navy Yard. DiNozzo's with me."

Ziva and McGee exchanged worried glances.

"Uh Boss you sure that's…"

"What McGee?" the frustration in Gibbs tone was unmistakable.

"Nothing Boss."

"That's what I thought. Now go."

When Gibbs was well out of earshot McGee turned back to Ziva and shuddered. He used to get the same look from his father – usually just before he couldn't sit down for a few days.

"You think Gibbs's got a woodshed out the back of his place?" McGee mused absently.

"Probably not, he stores most of his lumber in his basement."

McGee blinked in momentary surprise; it wasn't unusual that his Israeli friend wouldn't have understood the reference. "That's not what I… never mind… Let's just get back to the Yard or we'll both find out."

Ziva's mildly perplexed frustration at his comment was clear on her face.

"Find out what?"

oXoXoXo

DiNozzo was leaning against the passenger door when Gibbs returned to the car. His cap pulled low and sunglasses on, there was no way of reading the younger agent. Gibbs didn't even try. He knew no amount of chewing out he could provide would match the mental beat up that DiNozzo would be doing on himself right about now.

He also knew that the anger that he had felt towards the younger man back at the office was completely uncalled for and he needed to do something about it quickly. Someone attacking Abby in that manner had frightened him badly. He accepted at some level that McGee, Ziva, Tony and himself could and would be in the line of fire every day. But Ducky, Palmer and Abby were NONCOMS to hark back to his Marine Corp terminology. They weren't paid to put themselves on the line.

Tony had reacted on gut instinct when he had seen Charles Anderson. Gibbs couldn't blame his Senior Field Agent; if the shoe had been on the other foot, he would have probably reacted in a similar manner. Tony had been his right hand for more than ten years and in that time he had never seen the younger man react in the way he had today. Tony's jacket from Peoria through to NCIS had never shown inherent violence as a modus operandi for the former cop. Even when he had been deep cover in the Maccaluso case, Tony had been careful to apply the bare minimum of aggression required to maintain his cover as a Mobster.

Gibbs knew that the unprovoked attack on Abby and Tony's own guilt at somehow being responsible for it weighed heavily on DiNozzo's shoulders. The Team Leader hadn't singled Tony out to reprimand him; very much the opposite. He'd pulled him away from this current case to give him some space and time to regroup away from the rest of the team. It was also the perfect opportunity to revisit where the attack had occurred to see if there was anything left behind near Abby's apartment that could quantifiably link Anderson to her attack.

Pinning something on this Anderson was going to be the fastest way the Former Marine knew to get his Senior Agents head screwed back on the right way.

The unnatural silence in the car as they drove towards Abby's home was strained and faintly disturbing. Gibbs, someone who fully accepted he was less than effusive around his team, had become accustomed to DiNozzo's almost incessant chatter on these types of trips and was often privately pleased at the distraction and entertainment his Senior Field Agent provided. Especially when that entertainment was in the form of the occasional little squeak Tony gave when he cut passing someone too closely.

"So how do you know Anderson?"

If Tony wasn't willing to open up, having his boss suddenly spring a question on him might just snap him out of his stupor. "And don't just tell me you went to school together."

"There isn't much more to tell." Came DiNozzo's flat, unemotional response. "We met because of our folks, and I ended up going to the same boarding school as him."

"Why the dislike?"

Tony's silence spoke volumes and said nothing at all. Gibbs huffed inaudibly to himself appreciating the situation. Would he have provided DiNozzo with any more reaction had the younger man suddenly pushed his buttons about Shannon and Kelly? Was this what Abby would call a MOAS? The mother of all secrets? If he wasn't ready, Gibbs wouldn't push the issue. Tony would talk, if and when he was ready. Leroy Jethro was a patient man… Sniper, fishing, woodwork, long hours for the final pay off… this was no different. He just had to wait…

After a few minutes of silence Tony finally broke the tension by changing the conversation. "What's your plan for Abby?"

"Depends on what we find at her place."

"I'm guessing not much."

"Well we're about to find out."

Pulling up along the kerb between the car lot and Abby's apartment, Gibbs and Tony exited the car and immediately started to look for anything that would indicate a scuffle.

"What are we expecting to find Boss? A hand written confession?"

"That'd be nice DiNozzo. Just look around, maybe we'll get lucky."

"And if we don't."

Gibbs' smile was bitter. The silent drive over had given the MCRT Leader the chance to formulate a plan of sorts. One that would put him at loggerheads with at least one member of his team.

"Then Abby's gonna be really pissed with us both."

* * *

><p>oXoXoXo<p>

"GIBBS!" The faint whine to Abby's voice reminded the former Marine of Kelly when he left on his last tour. Plaintive, pleading… but now, like then, ultimately futile.

"No Abby. This is not open for discussion."

"You're not the boss of me Gibbs!" The comment was rewarded with a flat stare. "Well you are… sort of… but not really… Director Vance is my Boss and if I have to I'll…"

Abby's tirade was cut short by the rustle of a piece of paper.

oXo

_The argument had started shortly after Tony and Gibbs had returned to the office._

_Leaving the Senior Agent to unload his gear and continue his review of crime scene photos, Gibbs took the steps up to the mezzanine two at a time running the plan Tony and Gibbs had hashed out in finer detail on the way back to the Navy Yard through his mind. They both agreed; having some top agency clout in the back pocket would be advisable in this battle._

_Returning a few minutes later to the Squad Room floor McGee and Ziva watched anxiously as Gibbs passed Tony's desk without a word, a mere glance passing between them. As Tony leapt to his feet to follow Gibbs towards the elevator, Ziva raised her hands to McGee as if to say – you're guess is as good as mine._

"_David! McGee! You waitin' on invitations?" Gibbs called sticking his head back around the partition. Dashing to catch up with Tony and Gibbs, Ziva and McGee ducked into the elevator just as the doors closed._

"_She's not gonna like it Boss." Tony was saying._

"_You said that before DiNozzo. Ziva?"_

"_Yes Gibbs?"_

"_Your guest room in order?"_

_The question caught the newest agent by surprise. "Um… Yes Gibbs."_

"_Good."_

_The bell to the elevator announced their arrival and the doors opened to reveal the passage outside Abby's lab._

_Tony would joke later that it was like a bell ringing at the start of a prizefight…_

oXo

"What's this?"

"Just read it Abs." Tony sighed.

Taking the preferred paper from Gibbs hands, Abby quickly scanned the contents.

McGee flinched at the expression of Abby's face. Whatever was in that bit of paper wasn't to her liking. He's had a cat once that used to give him that look – usually just after he had rescued a mouse from its willing clutches.

"Leroy. Jethro. Gibbs!"

Now Tim was really scared – he couldn't think of the last time that Abby had used Gibbs' full name.

"This is underhanded… and low… and mean… and totally…"

"…For your own protection!" the team leader said quietly. "I don't want to give him another chance to hurt you."

"A direction from the Director? You sicced the Director on me Gibbs?" She complained. "Why'd you do something like that?"

"Because we knew you'd ignore us otherwise?" Tony said gently. "Abby, you have to trust us."

"But what if you are wrong, what if it isn't him?"

"You're doubting what you saw?" McGee asked.

"Well… sort of… I mean… I'm pretty sure it was the same guy…" Abby grimaced and looked pleadingly at Tony. "We'd had a couple of drinks. I could be wrong."

Tony gritted his teeth. Abby was trying to second-guess herself. Apparently Gibbs had similar thoughts. "Even if you are Abs we're not gonna take chances okay?"

"But a protective detail?" her gaze moved to Gibbs "And you know I've go a whole Forth of July thing planned tomorrow right? You hadn't forgotten that had you?"

Ziva and McGee shared guilty looks; they actually had forgotten. Tony's expression was firmly set on grim; he hadn't but and was feeling guilt of another kind. And Gibbs; Well he just gave her the 'I'm not accepting no as an answer' paternal look he had; he hadn't forgotten either.

"Nope, but that doesn't change anything. We'll celebrate your independence day after we get this guy. And you're staying with Ziva until we resolve this."

"You are always welcome in my home Abby" Ziva smiled.

Abby's lower lip almost started to tremble – it would look childish if it did she knew, but she couldn't help it. "This is going to be your first Independence Day Ziva."

"I have been in America for five years Abby; I have been to several Independence Day festivities."

"But not as one of us Ziva. This was going to be your first as an American Citizen."

"Well, then we will just have to do something together tomorrow at my place won't we?" Ziva placed a comforting hand on the Scientists shoulder.

"If we can get proof of him stalking you Abby we've got him." Tony said stepping forward, his personal feelings of guilt gnawing at him. "Don't think of it as a protection detail… just think that you've got a lot of friends who like taking up all of your time!" He shot Abby a killer smile which, to his immense satisfaction, she returned. "and hey… just think of the pleasure you can provide to us mere males thinking what you and ninjette here will get up to in your jammies.

The thwack across the back of his head was expected. Even still, Tony didn't lose his smile – it was worth it to see the look on Ziva's face. "Sorry Boss."

"You will be!"

* * *

><p>oXoXoXo<p>

"Thanks again for this Ziva." Abby said as she came out of the spare room into the living room of Ziva's new apartment, skull motif brush in one hand.

"No probes" Ziva shrugged. Abby fixed her with a decidedly amused expression. "What?"

"Did you just say no probes?

"Yes, is that not the term to indicate it is not a problem for someone to do something for someone else?"

"The expression's no PROBS Ziva. No probes is a whole other conversation." Abby grinned. Ziva muttered something in Hebrew under her breath. Abby was pretty sure whatever it was, it didn't bare translation. "No seriously, this is super cool that you are letting me do this. I'm just sorry you got dragged into it. It's bad enough when Gibbs goes all Papa Bear on us, but now he's got Tony in on the act."

"They care about you Abby, we all care about you."

"Yeah, I guess." Abby flopped down on the end of Ziva's sofa and started running her brush through her hair.

After the ambush in her lab, Gibbs had ordered Abby to go back to her apartment and pack a few things. McGee had gone with her to ensure her safety. _Her safety_! Seriously, if she hadn't had those couple of drinks and been off her game a bit she would have done more than put a knee in… Gibbs was totally overreacting to this. Abby figured if she could play by Gibbs rules for a couple of days everything would blow over and she would be home by the end of week.

Now back in Ziva's apartment Abby had showered and changed into her pyjamas, a matching set trousers and tank with sets of cartoon zombies couples. Ziva had also slipped into something a little more comfortable for a warm summer night, though her choice of sleepwear involved non-matching shorts and a tank top.

"Would you like me to do that for you Abby?" Ziva asked, inclining her head towards the brush.

Caught off guard Abby looked up at the former Mossad Officer. "Um… sure?"

Dropped gracefully onto the couch, Ziva motioned for Abby to slide down and sit just in front of her.

Hastily complying with Ziva's instructions, Abby settled herself tailor style directly in front of her friend as Ziva arranged her hair and began to brush.

Brushing your hair could relieve tension. Having someone else do it for you could be down right sensual, and the way Ziva's firm, yet gently brushing action sent shivers down Abby's head, neck, back and arms.

"Are you cold?" Ziva stopped brushing, noticing Abby's involuntary reaction.

Abby looked over her shoulder. "Oh that. No, I just really love getting my hair brushed, gives me the shivers… the good shivers."

"Oh! That I can understand. I used to brush my sister Tali's hair when we were younger, she would have the same reaction. I haven't had anyone to do it for since…" Ziva's voice trailed off in an unspoken memory. "But never mind, it is good to have someone to do it for now."

They sat for a few moments; the only sound the sound of Abby's hair passing through the bristles of the brush.

"So… do we take a picture and send this to Tony & McGee?" wickedness dripped from Abby's statement.

An equally wicked grin formed on Ziva's face. "No… better idea, we will send it to McGee and let _him_ show Tony!"


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Disclaimer... I'm an Aussie! My knowledge of all things 4th of July is about the same as what I would expect the average American to know about Australia Day. Hence why the ins and outs of any National Holiday parties is explicitly light on (and apologies in advance.) How long it actually takes to clear out the area around the Tidal Basin in DC after the fireworks is an unknown quantity... I'm sorta just guessing here... So please, sit back and have a read and I hope you like this chapter! ~Ozzyols**

* * *

><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Monday July 4

The bottle of alcohol sat untouched on the table in front of him.

Through the open window he could hear the sounds of kids playing in the street outside, their laughter epitomising what today stood for. Freedom. Independence. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Happiness seemed to have a good head start on him right about now.

Beside him his cell went. Picking it up and seeing the caller ID, he sighed and dropped in back on the bench.

She was persistent if nothing else.

He'd taken his home phone off the hook to deter people from calling – damn cell phones.

Maybe pouring a glass wasn't such a bad idea; if the calls kept coming he could always drop the phone in the drink.

Except that would break one of the rules. Number 3; never be unreachable.

But that was the problem – he wanted to be unreachable.

His cell went again. Almost ready to smash it against the wall in an effort to say honestly he couldn't answer, he was glad he looked at the caller ID. McGee. Activating it he raised it to his ear.

"Yeah McGee?"

"_TONY WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN! I'VE BEEN CALLING YOU LIKE FOREVER_!"

Yanking the phone from his ear, Tony knew there was no mistaken the strident voice of a very, very annoyed Abigail Sciuto.

"Geez Louise Abs! Wowzers!"

"Don't you act all surprised at me DiNozzo! Do you know what day it is?"

"Monday?"

"Monday what?"

"… the… fourth… of July?"

"Right. Do you remember what you are supposed to be doing today?"

Tony screwed his face up and swore under his breath.

"Abby we talked about this yesterday."

"I don't CARE what we talked about Tony."

"Abs, I'm really not in the mood…" Well that at least was true. Tony really wasn't in a partying mood right now. There was too much going on in his head.

"Anthony DiNozzo Junior…"

Damn she sounded like his piano teacher.

"… hold out your right hand."

"Abby…"

"Hold. It. Out."

Tony sighed and did as requested, noting idly that he needed to trim his nails again.

"On the far right side what do you see?"

"Far right side?"

"Yes… of your hand, what do you see?"

"My finger?"

"Yes… which finger?

"My pinkie?"

"YES! Your PINKIE finger… remember?"

_Ah crap_… he'd remembered that Abby was having her party but had forgotten he had pinkie promised with Abby outside his place the night after they'd been to Filibusters.

"Yeah Abs, I remember."

"Good. Now if you would like that pinkie to remain on that hand and not pickled in a specimen jar, you get your butt over to Ziva's!" She sounded like a drill sergeant. "McGee and Jimmy are already here." There was a pause followed by "… please come Tony."

That was the Abby he knew and loved. Mind you the gruff, tough Abby did raise some interesting questions.

"Alright Abby, you win… I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Within the hour Mister!" came Abby's ultimatum.

When the called ended, Tony looked back down at the bottle on the table in front of him. Good thing he hadn't had that drink after all.

Tony still didn't feel any better about going out to celebrate the birth of his nation with his friends. He wasn't going to be able to draw himself away from the reason they weren't having it at Abby's place.

But she didn't need to know that.

He'd made a good life out of being able to say one thing and feel another – he would have made a good door-to-door salesman he thought absently.

Hauling himself of his couch, Tony collected the OSU hoodie draped over the back of his kitchen chair and his wallet and keys and headed for the door, one more act wasn't going to kill him and if it spared Abby any pain, it was a sacrifice he could easily make.

The ad-hoc party was more organised than Tony would have believed possible when he arrived at Ziva's door just under forty-five minutes later. Apart from the usual patriotic paraphernalia that accompanied most of the Forth of July bashes he'd been to the in past, all the other staples of the national holiday were in attendance. Ziva's counter top was practically straining under mountains of holiday food.

Tony's expression must have given away his perplexity of how it was all achieved given the circumstances as Tim moved over and put a drink in his hand.

"Abby had me call past her place and pick up 'a few things'. She said she'd already prepared them and they'd go to waste otherwise."

"Aah that'd explain it." Tony commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"You okay Tony?" McGee asked the concern apparent on the Probie's face.

"He'd better be." Abby snapped, punching Tony in the upper arm.

"Ow! Would you quit doin' that Abs!"

"It's your own fault."

"Well I'm here now, so time-out okay?"

Abby raised a clenched fist and opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Ziva calling Tony's name.

"I need a hand in here Tony."

Grateful for the distraction Tony dodged around Abby hands raised in contrition and quickly walked into Ziva's kitchen.

"Thank you!" Tony breathed.

"You looked like you were up a pond." She said, handing Tony a bowl of potato salad, picking up a tray of hotdogs herself

"Up the creek Ziva… and yes, you're right."

"She was expecting you sooner rather than later. It does not take forty five minutes to get from your apartment to here." Ziva commented quietly, looking over to where Abby was engaged in conversation with McGee and Palmer.

"It does if you try and take the Metro on a federal holiday."

"You took the Metro? What has happened to your car?" Ziva's voice rose slightly.

"Ssssshhh! Keep your voice down." Tony hissed. "If Anderson followed Abby home Saturday night, that means he did it from my place… my place. I don't know what car he drives Ziva."

"That is easy enough to find out Tony – you are a federal investigator. Check the DMV."

"You don't think I've already done that?" Tony could feel his frustration rise again. "Anderson's the CEO of his company; he could have a fleet of vehicles at his disposal. He knows I work for NCIS – he's not likely to be dumb enough to use his own car."

Ziva nodded, understanding the unspoken implication in Tony's statement.

"I took the Metro because I didn't want to run the risk of missing him following me and leading him here. At least on public transport I've got a better chance of seeing him."

Before her Ziva saw Tony seem to collapse in on himself. His shoulders slumped in defeat; his head hung low, the rare show of vulnerability catching Ziva momentarily off guard. She turned and leant against the edge of the table, keeping her face turned into her shoulder but her eyes on her house guest, she asked the question Tony knew was coming.

"Are you not being just a bit paranoid Tony? Or is he really that dangerous?"

Tony concentrated on the logo of his T-shirt. "I don't know Ziva. I wanna think that we're all over reacting… but you don't know what…" he stopped, not wanting to dredge up old memories, especially not here and now. "…I just don't know."

Ziva reached out and took Tony's hand in hers.

"We will protect her Tony. All of us; you, me, Gibbs, McGee; you will see. He will not get a second chance and we will find what we need to make sure he will not trouble us again." Tony forgot how astute Ziva was sometimes, and how compassionate. "Now, we had better eat this before it gets cold."

oXoXoXo

Tony said his farewells as the sounds of fireworks dissipated some time just after ten. He had been on his best behaviour, acting as he was expected to. And at some level the relaxed companionable feeling that came with a dinner with friends was very welcomed, even some of his laughter had been heartfelt. But over all tonight had just been another stellar performance in the serial saga of his life. The papers would have written up as _a tour de force_ no doubt, _a deception beyond expectation_.

Only Ziva gave any inkling that she suspected something was wrong. He had caught her glancing covertly in his direction on several occasions and the really annoying thing was, she always seemed to manage to do it right when Tony felt his façade beginning to fail. What was she? Part bloodhound?

When Abby had tried to lurch to her feet to escort Tony to his car, nearly up ending a glass of wine over Jimmy, Ziva jumped in and saved him saying that she would do it as Abby was obviously too comfortable. That was a bit of an understatement. The happily toasted scientist was sitting sideways on Ziva's couch with her legs draped over McGee's.

"Nooo no no no nooo… you walk me to my car allll the time." she slurred happily.

Tony smiled and bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "You're comfortable Abs' Ziva can see me out." When she still tried to rise, Tony turned and pointed at her. "Sit… Stay…"

"Woof!"

"Don't 'woof' at me Miss Sciuto."

"Okay… Miaow!"

Tony couldn't stop the snort of laughter issuing from his lips. "G'night Abs. See you tomorrow 'kay?"

"Night Tony!" Abby waved with a grin as the door closed.

"Again, thanks for that Ziva." Tony said as they walked down the front steps of her apartment block.

"My pleasure. Are you sure you will be all right getting home? I could probably get Palmer to…"

"No, I'm fine really. It'll do me some good to walk for a bit." Slipping his OSU hoodie on Tony smiled at Ziva, slipped his hands into his pockets and confidently strolled off down the road towards the Metro station.

Rounding the corner out of sight of Ziva's apartment, Tony felt the energy leach out of him. His deportment changed from the confident strut that so epitomised Anthony DiNozzo Jnr… or for that matter any of the DiNozzo men, and was replaced with the slow defeated walk of a man battling his own demons.

He hadn't lied to Ziva. Going for a walk was a good idea. The thought of returning home just to sit facing his memories and a bottle of Scotch was the ingredients to a recipe for disaster.

How had everything gone to hell in only seventy-two hours?

This time two days ago, Tony had reconciled himself to the fact that people from your past do re-enter your lives and you deal with it. He was ready to give up the mad theory that Charles Anderson was effectively stalking him.

Well the good news was that the theory wasn't mad and Charles Anderson was stalking someone. The bad news was, it wasn't him! And that was infinitely worse

He didn't realise he had passed the entrance to the Metro until he was a couple of blocks past it. Oh well, he could pick it up at the next station.

The streets of DC were probably more active now than they had been when he'd been heading over to Ziva's. Most of the 'official' fireworks had ended and now people were winding down their respective parties. Kids still could be seen on fire escapes or in some cases out on the street with sparklers. Tony couldn't stop himself from having a small smile. Simple times. Simple pleasures.

Tony envied them.

He continued walking lost in his own memories, wondering if and how he could explain the deep seeded loathing that he felt for Charles Anderson?

Not just for his recent actions – though those alone would be enough for him to, at some level, want to take out his Sig and blow the scumbag away.

No… these were memories he had packed away for twenty-five years. Memories that threatened to bubble over and if he didn't at least acknowledge shortly, were going fester beyond treatment. Lancing some of them by replaying them in his own mind would be painful… but hopefully, eventually, cathartic.

He glanced at his watch. He had been walking for nearly an hour. If he was going to stroll down Tony DiNozzo's memory lane there were two possible way to tackle the situation… drinking or running. As it was a school night drinking was off the table. So that left running. Hailing a passing cab, Tony instructed the driver to head down to the tidal basin, or as close as he was going to get given the holiday road closures. Dressed in jeans, T-shirt and trainers wasn't the best running attire, but he had done more with less in his career… it would do…

The cabbie managed to get him to the corner of Seventh and Marine Ave. Slipping the driver his fare and a little extra for some fancy backstreet driving, Tony walked under the Southeast Freeway and 14th Ave bridges until he arrived at the basin. Moving over to a park bench he started to limber up. He still had to work tomorrow and the last thing he needed was to pull up lame because he'd been stupid. Glancing around as he stretched Tony noticed there were still a great number people in the Tidal Basin area. They must have had a good turn out for the fireworks Tony thought absently. Gauging the density of the remaining crowd, Tony figured it would take another half to three quarters of an hour for the area to clear back to a 'normal' Monday night. He could work around that.

Starting off at a slow lope Tony settled his breathing into a regular pattern. He'd spent hours on the Track at Ohio State building his stamina and speed, so now, even in his early forties he had still retained the muscle tone and memory of his younger days. It didn't take long for the gentle rhythm of breathing and jogging to settle his mind to a point where he could let it wander.

Tony knew he had started running long before he was ever accepted into OSU on scholarship. At times he felt like he had been running all his life. Everything changed the winter after his Mom died. His Dad grew distant, his metaphorical and physical stride far outstripping the younger DiNozzo. Tony had spent most of his time running just to catch up to him.

In a misguided effort to involve his son in his life after his wife had passed away, Anthony DiNozzo Snr had brought Tony along to the next re-enactment event that was scheduled.

At which point Tony had really started to learn how to run.

Anderson and his cronies were relentless in their pursuit of Tony from the outset but the kid they had all nicknamed 'Poo-boy' soon realised that what he lacked in size and strength he sure as hell made up for in agility and speed… well most of the time.

It was around then that Tony learned to hate the name Vincent, and all the connotations attached to it. Vincent meant Chuck and Chuck meant pain. Tony had never been as relieved as the day that Vincent Anderson visited and Chuck wasn't with him. It was summer and he'd just turned eleven. He felt like he was on cloud nine! Tony had overheard… well… eavesdropped on his fathers conversation with Mr Anderson only to find out with glee that Chuck had been packed off to some military boarding school!

_Awesome!_ He crowed as the young boy had skittered happily away.

With hindsight his opinion would have been very different if he had hung around for a few minutes more as the conversation turned to the benefits Rhode Island Military Academy could offer 'your Tony, Tony'. If Adult Tony could do one thing in his life it would be to go back and smack Vincent Anderson in the mouth for that suggestion.

Tony wasn't to find out for several months, it had been that meeting that had planted the idea of sending him to RIMA in his Father's mind. There had been no warning, no preamble, nothing. His Father had called him into his study one night before bed and informed him that he had made his decision and RIMA would offer good opportunities for him and that he would be starting in the new semester.

Tony Jnr stood there dumbfounded. His relationship with his father was at best polite. He loved his Dad, he loved him with all his heart, he just couldn't show it. And that was what hurt the most… or so he thought… He wanted to cry, to beg his Dad not to send him away, but DiNozzo's didn't do that sort of thing, ever. As Tony nodded his understanding and turned, dejected, to walk out of the study, the other shoe dropped as Tony Snr explained it would be okay, he'd know someone there – it's the same place Charles Anderson went to.

As the memory surged in his mind, adult Tony felt a burst of adrenalin and speed kick into his system. Pumping his legs hard, Tony started to pick up the pace… was he trying to out run the memories… out run the pain… or find release in it?

A stitch bit into his side, fingers of lightning thin pain flaring across his torso. Too much, too soon. Easing back, Tony fought to recapture the steady breathing he had achieved before. Another, smaller stitch flared to life. This time the sting was accompanied by the memory of flesh meeting flesh.

Less than a week: It had taken Chuck and his new found cohorts less than a week to set Tony DiNozzo in their sights. In addition to being in the intake of fresh meat, he was someone whose reputation preceded him. Chuck made certain of that. Tony found himself the butt of assorted practical jokes, pranks and general mischief. Not designed to incapacitate or injure him, just make his life a living hell.

Tony's life mission for the next five years was to keep one step ahead of Chuck Anderson and his crew. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Tony quickly learned there were safety in numbers and spent time cultivating a group of his own; if he moved within the pack he was safer than he was alone. Tony's natural charm won over many of the other students and teachers. Despite Chuck's best efforts to the contrary Tony's popularity grew.

But still, behind the façade, behind the walls of his mind, Tony spent most of his school life sleeping with one eye open. Hiding what he was thinking or feeling came naturally to Tony. People didn't want to know that your heart stung for a dead mother and absent father. It was better to hide those types of feelings away and know many but trust few… Playing the fool to be liked, because if you were liked there was a better chance someone would stand up for you, in their own way protect you.

But even becoming one of the most liked kids in the school still wasn't enough to stop the almost weekly run-ins he had with Anderson, and soon Tony's body was littered with bruises. Most could be explained away as part of the physical fitness regime of the school and the rest were in places that people couldn't readily see. None were something Tony was willing to discuss.

A second bout of energy seethed in the Agent demanding release. Tony dug in deeper and pushed a little harder. That was then. Those were the memories of a time long gone. But this run was more than just dredging up ancient history.

Now was different. Now Chuck Anderson wasn't up against a heart sore young boy. Now he was throwing himself against a fully qualified very special federal agent who'd had enough of his shit! The lactic acid in Tony's thighs building as Tony's speed increased a little more.

He'd meant what he had said to Anderson, if he wanted to come after Tony, fair enough. Let it be open season on DiNozzos'! Anderson'd find himself in for a bit of a shock though – now they bit back. He was ready for whatever Charles Anderson could throw at him.

But if Anderson made another move against any of his team…

His family…

Anthony DiNozzo would bring about retribution of Biblical proportions!

A ragged breath exploded from Tony's lungs. He was done. His body was sending him messages that his brain was finally getting. He'd aced Kinethesiology in College, no excuse for not listening now. Slowing his run down to a jog once more Tony saw the bench he had limbered up on when he started just up the way. Jogging over he let his body slow as he approached. Putting one leg up onto the seat he started to stretch his leg muscles out as he glanced at his watch. Blinking under the lamplight, Tony pulled out his phone to confirm the time. One fifteen? How long had he been here? A large fat water droplet fell on the screen of his phone. Looking up Tony saw the DC night sky full of stars, not a cloud in sight. Confused, Tony blinked, then tasted a wet salty tang at the corner of his mouth. Running the back of his hand over his forehead Tony realised what the drop had been… he was dripping in sweat.

As if the realisation acted as a trigger to his endorphin filled body, a chill ran up and down Tony's spine. Touching his hoodie Tony could feel the dampness instantly. He needed to get back to his place before his muscles started seizing up. He'd never intended the run to go this long.

Making his way up from the Tidal Basin towards 14th Ave Tony's legs felt like rubber. Lady luck however was on his side, as a vacant cab came into view over the bridge. Hailing it, Tony gave his address and slide into the back seat.

For once Tony was glad that the driver had no interest in conversing with his fare, so the journey home was mercifully silent. Paying the man and wishing him a good night, Tony forced his muscles into movement up the stoop to his apartment complex.

Turning the hot water faucet in his shower on full, Tony stripped off his sweaty clothes and tossed them onto a pile of dirty washing. Stepping under the blissfully hot water Tony allowed the jets of his shower do their best. Several luxurious minutes later, Tony emerged dripping, but much less stiff from the bathroom. Drying himself quickly Tony slipped beneath the covers of his bed and let an unexpectedly dreamless sleep overtake him.

Tomorrow was a new day.


	12. Chapter 11

**Okay, this is an unexpected chapter, I have just watched "A Man Walks into a Bar" and had a bit of, what from my point of view, is a bit of a character insight and have waxed lyrical on it. This chapter is not so much about moving the story forward as reflecting on some things and kinda putting it out there where I could ultimately see Tony's character going... please forgive a fic author her fantasies! Think of this as a sorbet chapter... back to the meaty stuff soon. ~ Ozzyols**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Tuesday, July 5

The ding of the elevator across the near empty room heralded the arrival of someone on the squad room floor. Glancing up from his desk Gibbs was mildly amazed to see DiNozzo exit the elevator car.

Gibbs checked his watch – 0650.

This was early.

Though nothing had been said on the weekend before, Gibbs had not expected to see his team in the office until at least 0800 that morning. So to have DiNozzo as the first member on deck without instructions was… unusual to say the least.

Gibbs nodded at his senior field agent.

"Mornin' Boss." Tony mumbled

Gibbs studied Tony with a trained eye. His movements didn't seem to have the same fluidity that DiNozzo usually displayed. There was a caution to his walk, and despite being in the muted semi artificial light of the office he was yet to have remove his sunglasses. Perhaps the squad room with it's neon's, plate glass windows and glaring skylight was just a little too well lit for his agent?

Gibbs bit back a grin. He'd received an invitation to Ziva's impromptu party yesterday. Trust Abby to find a way to bend the rules and still have her holiday get together. Gibbs would have given good money that DiNozzo wouldn't have attended all things as they were, but potent charms of his forensic scientist were hard to ignore. Perhaps he'd been wrong and Tony had gone?

Tony dropped his pack into its usual spot beside his desk and sat down with a thump.

Watching out of the corner of his eye as he worked through his in tray, Gibbs half expected DiNozzo to fossick around in his desk draw trying to find whatever he hid back there to create the DiNozzo Defibrillator. So when Tony simply removed his glasses slipped them into his pack and turned his computer on, Gibbs was instantly suspicious.

The agent sitting opposite to him was clearly tired. The bags under Tony's eyes were nearly checked luggage in size, but despite that Tony didn't appear to be suffering any other symptoms of self-imposed impairment.

In fact the agent in front of him didn't seem to be much like Tony DiNozzo at all. Gibbs gave up the pretension of covert observation and sat quietly, his fierce gaze observing the younger man.

Over the next several minutes Gibbs openly observed DiNozzo's actions, but with the exception of his initial muttered greeting, Tony seemed oblivious to Gibbs' presence. Intently studying the monitor in front of him, Tony's normal mildly anarchic temperament was as lacking as it had been on Sunday afternoon, it was wrong then, and it was wrong now.

Gibbs usually used his early morning time in the squad room to gather his thoughts and prepare himself for the inevitable circus that sometimes seemed to surround his team. He knew his team seemed to have a reputation in some circles as slacking off at work and messing around, but in reality Gibbs didn't care.

The results of his team spoke for themselves.

Yes, at times they were dysfunctional to the point of cataclysm but somehow when the chips were down they always made it work.

Earlier in the years when Dr Cranston had come to assess the psychological fitness of his team, Kate's sister had posed a simple riddle to the Team Leader. '_A man walks into a bar and asks for a glass of water_'. Many people would listen to that riddle and naturally assume that the Doctor was associating the role of the barman to Gibbs, master of outcomes, remaining calm and collected and resolving the issue. He was the leader. That was his job.

Gibbs had smiled and answered the riddle, '_he had hiccoughs'_, sound in the knowledge that, while at some level peoples assumptions would be true, that it was DiNozzo who fit the bill of the barman much better than he ever would.

Gibbs knew he was set in his ways, he had said as much to Rachel. Sure he could think laterally when needed – his job as a Marine Sniper and then an Agent had taught him the value of flexibility and invention.

But he had never seen flexibility and adaptability so fully demonstrated than when he had met Tony ten years ago. The kid was born to do this job.

Like Abby, Tony saw patterns and links where others didn't, and that's what made him such a damn fine investigator for all his quirks. Gibbs doubted he would have had the audacity to come up with the harebrained scheme Tony had pulled off in Somalia. Tony had summed it up perfectly that day.

Laying there on the hill, patched into the parabolic listening device targeted on the room DiNozzo and McGee had been held in Gibbs waited for the signal from his Senior Field Agent. When Tony had unexpectedly called himself the Wildcard, Gibbs had made a mental note to allow himself a smirk of satisfaction at the audacity and truth behind DiNozzo's words when it was all over.

Now nearly two years later Gibbs gave into that smirk. Though he would never admit it to another living soul, Gibbs held high hopes for Tony – if he could keep his mouth shut long enough not to get himself killed.

With the right polishing – and occasional kick in the pants, Gibbs could see his Senior Field Agent one day sitting in the NCIS Directors chair.

But to see Tony now, studiously ignoring Gibbs' very presence tore at the leader. Part of Gibbs wanted to interrupt and quiz the Agent on what the real underlying issue was, but mostly Gibbs wanted to respect his team members need to work this out for himself. Tony would come to him when the time was right, but hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Gibbs felt a shiver run down his spine. Gibbs could pin point the case that had stolen the last vestiges of public light-hearted whimsy from his life. One man who had systematically bombarded the former Marines guard until he had retreated so completely into his armour of self. Kyle Boon was dead some five years now, but Gibbs still caught himself wondering what his life would have been like if he had never caught that case?

The intensity, the coldness DiNozzo had demonstrated over the past few days now seemed to worry Leroy Jethro Gibbs even more and he was going to be damned if he was going to let DiNozzo follow him down the same path.

Leaving the younger man to his work, Gibbs turned his attention back to the pile of papers on his desk. They had been working in silence for over an hour when the elevator doors opened and a very somber McGee entered the squad room.

The pale, slightly greenish tinge, the sunglasses and the coffee was all Gibbs needed to know at least one of his team had enjoyed themselves yesterday.

A casual glance followed swiftly by a wicked glint in the eye of the Senior Field Agent was all the warning Gibbs needed of what was to come next.

"Mornin McSunshine!" Tony grinned as he verbally jabbed at his partner watching the younger man flinch at the sudden sound.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Tony DiNozzo – zero to goofball in .03 seconds, it had to be a new record.

oXoXoXo


	13. Chapter 12

**Hi Guys. Here is the latest chapter, I'll also point out here, any research I am getting re police/court proceeding for the US is coming from the net... so apologies if I make any probie blunders, just roll your eyes and remember I'm an Aussie! I have a day off tomorrow so I will hopefully be able to write/edit more so I might be able to post another chapter on the weekend. Thanks very much for all the continued feedback it's lovely! ~ Ozzyols**

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><p><span>Thursday July 14<span>

Gibbs had a problem. It had been nearly two weeks since the man they thought was Charles Anderson had 'attacked' Abby and despite the best efforts to the contrary no evidence linking the lobbyist to Abby could be found that wasn't highly circumstantial.

Abby's steadfast refusal to actually name Anderson as her attacker did not help matters. While a victim's cooperation wasn't always required in cases like these, you needed firm physical evidence placing the suspect at the scene to be able to make a case that wouldn't get laughed out of the District Attorney's office.

Two issues hampered the team's efforts further. One, though technically an assault on a federal officer, Abby's attack wasn't something that would normally be investigated by NCIS and Two, it seemed that Anderson was just an out right slimy little weasel.

Ziva's contacts had revealed that the Anderson corporate jet had left with Charles and his wife Patricia on board destined for the Bahamas the day after the attack and Anderson's PA had confirmed that the CEO would be out of town for at least another week.

Tony, in a vain effort to put Anderson at the scene, had tracked his purported movements on the night in question to try and find a hole. That had failed to pan out with every lead Tony tracked down seeming to point to Anderson having been a Dinner in the Foggy Bottom area and then at a rather exclusive and notorious club catering to some… exotic tastes… until the wee small hours of the morning.

Efforts to try and get corroborating evidence other than statements from staff were proving to be elusive. As no crime had been reported with Abby steadfastly refusing to lay charges, no matter how hard her friends tried, there was no grounds to try and get warrants for the restaurant or club footage that might prove Anderson's story to be a lie.

The frustration chaffed them, Tony most of all.

But for one member of the group, Tony's frustration was something to be welcomed – sort of.

A small element of guilt whispered at Abby in the quietness of her mind. She wanted nothing more than to run to Gibbs or Tony and tell them that yes, it was Charles Anderson who had attacked her. How good would it be to unburden herself of this secret? But as one voice told her to do it, another stronger voice reminded her of how monumentally bad an idea that would be. The chances that Gibbs or worse Tony would do something stupendously dumb ranked high on Abby's-dumb-things-to-do-register!

But at least with Anderson out of the picture until at least the end of the week, Abby had been hoping to wheedle more of a reprieve from her Gibbs on the rules he'd set out.

She might has well have been trying to move Cleopatra's Needle with a toothpick. Gibbs remained firm on his resolution that Abby wasn't to be left unescorted when she left the office.

He had at least relented after the first couple of days and agreed to let Abby return home on the proviso that she, a) had her cell and GPS on at all times and b) promised that she wasn't going to go anywhere after hours by herself.

There had been some intense haggling over what was classified as _anywhere_ and _after hours_ that had ended rather abruptly when Gibbs had threatened to move her lock stock and coffin into his basement for an indefinite timeframe.

"I don't have anything else down there at the moment Abs"

And that was the end of that.

To Abby what it basically meant was spending more time with the people she loved – and that was never a bad thing, it was just… well… she didn't have a choice in it and it was really starting to get on her nerves.

From the Navy Yard Gibbs and Tony were the two who had to detour the least to get to her place, so a ritual began.

Gibbs would pick her up in the morning, very 'in the morning', like birds were still blinking 'in the morning'. They would stop for coffee and Caf-Pow before heading into the office; Abby would sit in the car and watch the scenery – trying not to blink, in case she missed it. Gibbs would head to the Squad Room; if Henry was working Abby would have her usual fight over her name and then head to her lab.

In the evening the routine simply reversed itself. Tony would come and collect her from the Lab; they would sometimes stop and grab a bite to eat before he would escort her through the lobby of her building right to her front door.

Abby really actually enjoyed her time with Gibbs and Tony, but that still didn't stop the feelings of inadequacy over being the captain… captainess? of her own destiny.

The long hours in her lab and her apartment gave he time to play over the events of that Saturday night. And the more she thought about it, the more she was certain that she would have been able to handle him if she hadn't been off her game, or had been carrying the stuff she'd been given the last time a lunatic was after her.

Reaching into her backpack Abby drew out the knuckle-dusters Director Shepherd had presented her with and slid them on her hand. Not only did they make an awesomely effective deterrent, but they looked pretty cool as jewellery too. Reaching in once more her hand gripped around the smooth handle of the other item she had added to her bag. How could a girl go wrong when she was packing a Taser!

Handling the gift from Ziva like James Bond handled his Walter PPK, Abby straightened her spine, flush with energy and purpose. Tomorrow was Friday. Tomorrow she was going out, and that was final. She was going to take control of her own life again. Pushing back her chair, she took a spy like stance.

If the guys wanted to come that was their choice, but she was definitely going out and no one was going to stop her!

A sizzling crack split the air. From a shelf near the refrigeration unit, a small grey form fell prone to the floor, two tiny metal barbs sticking out of his plush grey hide.

"Oh No! Bert!"

A clatter of plastic from a discharged Taser hit the floor as Abby raced over to pick up her unintended target.

oXoXoXo

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><p><span>Friday July 15<span>

"You're not going out!"

"Yes I am."

"No you are not."

"Who's gonna stop me?"

Jimmy Palmer sighed. Watching McGee and Abby yell at each other for the past fifteen minutes was not unlike watching a bad 80's sitcom where the Dad was forbidding the teenager daughter from going out to a party. Of course it didn't help matters the fact that McGee was dressed in a fawn coloured suit with a light blue business shirt, and Abby's pseudo school outfit would make a St Trinian's schoolgirl blush.

"C'mon McGee! It's not like we are breaking any of Gibbs rules! Tony and I always stop for a meal"

"No"

"McGEE!"

"Forget it Abby. I like my head where it is thank you."

Abby let out a frustrated sigh. "Look all I want to do is get out of here for just one night."

"Until we are certain that this creep isn't going after you Abs – Gibbs rules apply."

"Gibbs is being unreasonable. Since you guys had that run in at the Buzzard Point, El Sleazo has dropped of the map. He's gone Timmy, in the wind; he's probably not even back in the country yet. But I'm still stuck here like I'm in witness protection or something. Even Jimmy agrees, don't you Jimmy?"

Abby looked past McGee's shoulder to the ME's assistant.

"I… um… I…" Palmer flustered under the scrutinizing glare of McGee. "I don't think it's up to me Abby." Blushing furiously as Abby fixed a glare of her own on him.

McGee scrunched his face and ran a hand over his tired eyes.

Gibbs, Tony and Ziva had gone off earlier in the morning to Norfolk to run down a lead on the latest case they were investigating. It was nearly six and they still hadn't returned.

Both Gibbs and Tony had left pretty explicit instructions as to what Tim was to do with regards to the well being of one Abigail Sciuto and Tim McGee fully intended to obey both of them. If he didn't he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from Tony until he was dead and in his grave. The only upside being, that probably wouldn't be that long a time as Gibbs would kill him deader than dead in about three second flat – that was if Ziva didn't get to him first.

Unfortunately, Abby's concern for McGee's self preservation was hovering around zero.

McGee could understand the Forensic Techs frustration. His life had never been in danger to the point that he had a protection detail, but he had been sidelined and it chafed not being able to do what was normal in the circumstances. So he was willing to cut Abby a little, miniscule amount of slack… but that still wasn't going make him put his head in the lion's mouth so to speak.

Abby seemed to have other ideas.

"Well. It's my life and my decision – so I am going out." She held up a finger as Tim began to object. "Yes Timothy! I am going out. I am going to get a meal and I am even going to a club. Now, you have two choices, you can come with me, or you can stay here and explain to Gibbs where I went."

Of all the obstinate, pigheaded… "Or there is a third, I could tie you up!" McGee growled.

Abby's eyes sparkled with mischief! "Timothy McGee, promises promises!" Abby snatched her coffin shaped backpack and headed for the door of her office.

McGee's eyes grew wide. She was really going to do this. Tim winced at the decision he was making. If he let her go; he was a dead man. If he went with her; he was _possibly_ a dead man. If he took Palmer with him; he would have an accomplice! He jumped in front of her trying to intercept her. "One promise Abby!"

"What McGee?"

"Palmer comes with us… and we call Tony.

"Deal. So… who's up for Skittle-Bombs?" Abby bounced as she dragged McGee out of the lab, leaving a stunned Palmer in their wake.

The young assistant ME shook his head. _This so wasn't going to end well!_

oXoXoXo

"Huh, I've got two missed calls. How'd I miss a call?"

Tony practically tossed his pack into its usual corner and placed an evidence box on his desk before slumping down in his seat. The drive back from Norfolk had been a killer!

He'd tried his best to catch some sleep in the back of the car after Ziva had called shotgun, but it was remarkably difficult when blaring horns interrupted your attempts. He wouldn't have minded so much if they had come in a rhythmic pattern, but there was just no continuity to their frequency or length. Much like his Boss's driving!

Ziva, the traitor, appeared to have slept most of the way back. But what was Tony to expect really.

They hadn't left Norfolk until nearly seven, which under normal conditions – barring traffic, would have had them back at the Navy yard around ten, ten thirty. Tony checked his watch. Nine twenty six.

"That's gotta be some sort of record."

"You say something DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he started packing away his desk.

"No Boss, um, I mean yeah Boss, I got a missed call from McGee on my cell."

"Well call him back."

"Will get right on it Boss, I'll just run these down to Abby's Lab."

"Is she still here?" Ziva asked stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

"Don't think so, spoke to Henry on the way in." Tony commented as he walked towards the elevator. "He said that McStand-in and the Autopsy Gremlin left with her sometime after six thirty. That's probably what the message will be."

"You want me to wait for you Tony?" Ziva asked.

"Unless you want to join me at Finnegan's for a night cap Zee-Vah!"

Ziva shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, but no."

The Senior Field Agent shrugged. "Well your loss. Night Boss, Night Ziva."

Gibbs grunted and gave a half backward wave to remains of his team as he walked away from his desk.

Well so much for that, Tony grinned as he continued over to the elevator.

Abby's lab was in darkened silence when he arrived a few moments later. Years of experience guided Tony in what needed to be done without really having to think about it. Separating 'perishable' samples from non and putting his John Hancock on the chain of evidence tabs, Tony stacked them neatly in Abby's refrigerated unit on the shelf specifically designed to house after hours collections, or items awaiting process. A similar protocol awaited the remaining items as Tony signed and stacked them in the cartons beside Abby's examination table.

Yawning, Tony slapped the up button on the elevator and was grateful when the door slid open straight away. Leaning his head against the wall, Tony ambled back to his desk. Ziva had taken him and his word and had left, her desk in darkness.

Packing away what few items were still on his own desk, Tony stood up and ran through his checklist. Keys – check, wallet – check, weapon – check, badge – check, check – check… Tony chuckled at his last thought. Ziva or McGee would have something to say if they caught Tony laughing at his own joke, but they weren't here. Assured that he had everything Tony turned his light off and headed out of the squad room towards the Lobby.

"Night Henry" Tony called as he passed the security checkpoint.

"Agent DiNozzo."

The call of his name arrested Tony's forward motion.

"I remembered where I saw the guy you were looking at the other week."

Tony's eyebrows raised in interest.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I remember seeing him out the front of the Headquarters about a month ago. He was standing talking to some other suits. I remember him cause he was taking a might more interest in the office than the rest of his group. He was looking directly in at me, I don't think he could see me, but he was looking in here."

Tony felt a touch of hope rise. If Anderson had been here… they would have him on tape.

"Do you remember exactly when it would have been?"

"Not off the top of my head, but if I look at my duty rosters I could probably work it out for you."

"Would you?"

"Sure. I'll look at it when I get home tonight and let you know on Monday?"

Tony gave the older guard a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Thanks Henry."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Tony jogged over to his car. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had right now.

Exiting the Navy Yard, Tony glanced at his car clock, 22:05. Belatedly Tony remembered the missed calls on his cell. Reaching over to the phone in the cradle, Tony keyed his voice mail.

"You have two new messages, you have six saved messages" the metallic female voice commented. Could they have chosen a more annoying voice Tony thought absently "First message".

_Hey Tony, it's Paul. Look man I meant to call you the other day, but we've been up to our asses in illegals, but we got a flag that the Gulfstream you asked me to watch for flew back into DC on Tuesday night. Confirmed Charles Anderson was a passenger, I've emailed you the manifest. Catch ya later. _Tony frowned, well he had to come back to DC at some time, and at least he knew to be on the look out again.

The tone on his phone bleated indicating the second message. _Tony, It's McGee. It's 18:52…_ there was an uneasy hesitation in his voice _…we've just left the Yard, that is Jimmy and I are taking Abby out to dinner…_ So? He'd taken Abbs to dinner on a bunch of times on the way home, why did McGeek sound so squirrelly about it? _…then, and I'm just telling you this so…_ Tim's voice cut off as an obviously frustrated Gothic Scientist grabbed the phone from the Elf lord. _What he's trying to say Tony is we are going for dinner and then I am going to a club. Call us if you want to join okay?_ The line went dead, along with the pit of Tony's stomach.

What the hell was McGee playing at? With one hand on the wheel Tony snatched his phone out of its cradle with the other and Dialled McGee.

"C'mon" he hissed impatiently willing the younger Agent pick up.

_Hi, you've reached the voice mail of…_

Tony disconnected the call with a growl. Pushing his foot a little deeper on the accelerator Tony scrolled through his list of contacts until he found the next number he was after.

_This is Jimmy Palmer, please leave a…_

Goddammit! Tony was going to kick their asses up the beltway and back for this.

He had one number left to try before the inevitable happened – calling Gibbs. A call he fervently hoped he didn't have to make!

Hitting his speed dial one more time, Tony wait several teeth gritting moments before his ears were bombarded with an assortment of strange noises, that might just pass off in some circles as music.

"Hey! Tony!" Abby's voice was barely discernible over the racket.

Tony breathed deeply, his heart lowering from where it seemed to have lodged itself in his throat.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Where. Are. You?" he repeated.

"Hang on, I can't hear you." Abby replied.

"ABBY WHERE ARE YOU?" Tony bellowed into the phone.

The noise at the other end of the line was suddenly muted. "Geez Tony, no need to shout! I can hear you just fine!"

Tony clenched his teeth, willing the tension headache forming just behind his eyes to go away.

"Sorry Abs, I just want to know where you are?"

"Oh we're at a night club just near the Capitol One bank on L Street."

Tony checked his rear view mirror and abruptly changed lanes so he could head into DC proper. "Where's McGee and Palmer?"

"Um… Jimmy had to use the little ME's room – I think this place is freakin him out a bit, and McGee's fixing up our bill, we were about to leave."

"Where are you? The Ladies room?"

"Why would I be in the Ladies room Tony?" Abby sounded confused.

"Well the noise was pretty loud there a second ago…"

"Yeah, that was before I went outside."

Tony's heart jumped back up throat. "Abby is McGee with you?"

"No, I told you, he's in paying our tab. I'm just killing time talking to you… and getting some cash out. You know, if you're around you should come down, we could get together and go on to…"

Tony opened his mouth, trying to interrupt the verbal stream of thought issuing from his friends mouth, when his attempts were silenced by the next words.

"… Hey! Watch it! Geez, there's enough pavement for both of us, you don't have to… YOU!..." There was a pause, and then Tony heard a snigger and another, all too familiar voice. "… miss me Minx?".

The line went dead.

oXoXoXo


	14. Chapter 13

**If there is one thing I love about NCIS is the fact that the tapestry of their characters are so interwoven. Like the warp and the weft of a well crafted rug, you can't tell a story about one person alone. So as much as this is a Tony DiNozzo story, I couldn't do it without the other amazing characters that everyone associated with NCIS have brought to life. Anyway, as promised, I have been able to edit a bit more, so here is the latest chapter! Ozzyols**

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The rage of a hurt child drove him, tempered by the responsibility of a grown man.

As Tony sped towards the Capitols centre, twenty-five years of waring emotions bubbled to the surface. On the one had, he had the unreasoning terror of a lost and lonely inner child that for the past month had been caught in a downward spiral of paranoia as old school yard fears hounded him. On the other the calm and collected investigator with over sixteen years experience attempted to redirect and focus the wayward emotions that threatened to overtake him.

There was no mistaking that voice on the phone. And this time Abby couldn't palm it off as coincidence, she had a witness, a witness who wouldn't back down.

Ahead of him he could see the ever-increasing number of lights, as the City loomed closer. All he wanted to do was to get to Abby. He still hadn't been able to raise either McGee or Palmer on their cells, and Abby's was telling him the number was unavailable and to try again later.

As Tony started to key the phone to call Gibbs the device suddenly began trembling in his hand, glancing down at caller ID he was relieved to see McGee's name.

"McGee, where are you? You've got Abby right? She just called but we got disconnected. I'm pretty sure I heard Anderson in the back ground before I got cut off. I'm on Marine Avenue heading your way. Tell me you've got her…" Tony stopped when he realised McGee was repeating his name over and over. The sinking feeling started in his stomach again. "What is it?"

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone at first, then in the background Tony could make out one, distinct sound… the unearthly wail of a siren.

"McGee?"

"Tony. I only left her alone for a second I swear."

Oh God.

"What happened Tim?" Tony tried to remain calm; yelling at the junior agent wasn't going to get the answers he needed. Glancing at the traffic and judging the Friday night volume Tony mentally juggled information. A club near the Capital One Bank? He could continue to run along Marine Ave West and then straight up 17th Street and right into L Street. That was probably going to be his best option. A sudden prompt from McGee cut through his line of thought. "Sorry, what?"

"I said! I went back to where Abby had been sitting and neither she or Palmer were there, Palmer had hit the head and Abby had disappeared."

"She'd gone outside to take a call McGee."

"I KNOW THAT NOW TONY!" McGee yelled down the phone, "What the hell did she do that for?"

"Because I couldn't hear her."

"You were on the call?"

"Yes."

"What were you doing calling her?" Naked accusation tinged the Probie's words.

"Because I was McGee." Tony bit back. "Now where's Abby?"

"The Paramedics have just arrived and are with her now."

The statement and anguished emotion behind the words caught Tony off guard. Slamming on the brakes, heedless to the blaring of horns as cars swerved to avoid him, Tony felt the blood rush from his head. A sudden reverberating blast from a Truckers air horn snapped Tony out of his stupor as the sound echoed around his car reminding the Agent that he had come to a screeching halt under the Southwest Freeway.

"Paramedics? What the happened McGee?" Tony gulped, pulling his sedan speedily away to a cacophony of honking and unintelligible shouting from the vehicles around him.

"I don't know, Palmer came back from the Head and told me Abby was still at the bar when he left. We checked around and the doorman said he had seen her leave. We went out and there was a crowd of people up near the intersection of 17th and L. When we got there a woman was treating someone on the ground. Palmer noticed the shoes…

_Crap Crap Crap!_

Tony tried to calm his breathing. "How bad?"

"Don't know."

"Okay, okay, this is what's gonna happen; you or Palmer are going to be with her at all times. I'm on my way anyway and I'll be there as soon as I can. Call Gibbs…" McGee started to interject. "I can't, I'm driving McGee. Call him, fill him and Ziva in. Get the medics to take her to Bethesda. Gibbs'll want that." Tony threw the wheel hard left through the 12th Street lights. "Someone approached Abby while we were talking. I'm sure it was Anderson, see if anyone remembers anything, and call me the second you know anything about anything you hear me?"

"Right Tony."

Tony didn't wait for any further response from McGee before hanging up. Time was a good Agent, and would know what to do, Tony probably didn't even need to tell him his job, but it sure as hell made himself feel better to have a 'plan'.

Tony would later wonder if it was God, fate or the universe made him miss the on ramp that would have lead him back onto Marine Ave. Swearing vociferously as the road fed around onto 14th street, Tony did a quick recalculation of his route. If he continued up 14th he could cut across west bound one way on K street then back onto 17th and Connecticut.

Tony wished, not for the first time in his life, that NCIS cars came standard with dash lights, hell even one of the old Kojak magnetic jobs would do right about now.

Moving as fast as the traffic and safety would allow, Tony came to stop at a set of traffic lights on the corner of 14th and K. Grinding his teeth to stop himself from screaming, Tony willed the lights to change.

Rounding the corner onto K Street, a group of three people strolling down the sidewalk caught his attention. Tony stared at the scene blankly for several seconds as his brain tried to comprehend the images his eyes were sending him.

Over the shoulder of the largest of the men a small coffin shaped backpack was slung nonchalantly. Against the attire of someone dressed for a day on the hill, the item looked entirely out of place, but it wasn't the odd juxtaposition that had caught Tony's eye – it was who was doing the juxtaposing!

Anderson!

A snarl that would have done a big cat on the Serengeti proud issued from the throat of Anthony DiNozzo as he planted his foot on the gas and sped round the corner, headless to the traffic or other pedestrians. One eye watching for somewhere to stop, and the other watching the review mirror, Tony saw as Anderson and his Cronies went into a bar just near the corner of 14th and K.

"Screw this!" Tony snapped, pulling into a driveway and up onto the sidewalk. Throwing himself from the car and storming back towards the bar, Tony inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of energy from his six foot two frame. With a nod and a brusque smile to the doorman Tony walked inside.

Dark and funky with a rock feel to it, it took a moment for Tony's vision to adjust to the dim light. Despite the mood lighting or perhaps because of it, Abby's coffin backpack with its Red Baron motif stood out like a beacon to the Agent.

Edging his way to come up behind Anderson, Tony grabbed the bigger man by the left shoulder and spun him anti-clockwise towards him. Chuck Anderson didn't even have time to adjust the smirking grin on his face before Tony's right fist connected solidly with it. The fact that he was smirking made the punch all that more satisfying. Ripping the bag from Anderson shoulder, Tony threw it over the counter to the stunned barmaid.

"Here, hold this for me, I'll be back later to collect it."

Anderson blinked furiously trying to clear the tears from his eyes and the blood from his nose. Realising who had taken a swing at him, Anderson snarled and threw himself back at Tony, only to find the agent was ready for him.

Stepping slightly to one side Tony used the sudden momentum and weight of the larger man to roughly throw Anderson to one side onto a bar table. A grim smile of satisfaction settled on Tony's face as Anderson staggered back to his feet. Suddenly pressure on his biceps told Tony that he'd been grabbed from behind. Permitting a quick glance behind him, Tony saw Anderson's compatriots on either side of him. Memories of battleground re-enactments and schoolyard beat downs flashed in Tony's mind, Anderson making sure his target was restrained before laying into him. But that was a lifetime ago, he'd been a kid then. He wasn't a kid now.

Sixteen years of law enforcement training was a hard thing to ignore, especially when your body now responded automatically to certain triggers. Couple this with ten of those years as Gibbs sparing partner, two trying to out do a woman assigned to protect the President (and failing miserably as Kate always loved to point out), and the past six years going toe to toe with a Mossad trained assassin, Tony was confident about his abilities. Not Jet-Li, Jackie Chan confidant, but enough to hold his own in a bar fight.

Bar room brawling wasn't apparently something either of the men holding him back had done a lot of. Both men had made the fatal error of concentrating their restraint on Tony's upper arms, rather stupidly leaving his lower arms free.

With a sudden wrench of his right arm, Tony pivoted his elbow and stamped his right fist backwards hoping that one of his assailants was standing immediately behind him. The feel and sound of flesh meeting flesh, and a warm wet spray hitting his hand and neck was all he needed to know they had. The hand holding his right arm suddenly disappeared.

As Tony turned his head slightly to the left to gauge where the other opponent was, a flicker of movement out of the corner of his right eye drew his lateral attention. Chuck seemed to have falsely assumed that Tony's distraction was an opportunity for him to take a swing and catch him blindsided… Chuck vastly underestimated Tony's skill!

As Anderson's meaty fist flew across the intervening space between them on a crash course with Tony's neck and jaw, the Agent deftly deflected the swing simply by stepping into the punch and effectively dragging the remaining goon forward with him. Effortlessly Tony swept his right hand back across his body to protect himself by knocking Chucks wrist off to one side.

The move worked like a charm. As Tony deflected to blow, Chuck couldn't stop the forward movement of the punch which now pushed straight past Tony and over his shoulder into the face of Chuck's friend.

With his left arm suddenly free, Tony snapped a left hook connecting not with Andersons face, as much as he might have liked to, but instead with the larger man's rotator cuff on his right arm, a grim satisfaction settling over him as Anderson staggered back. _Didn't think I'd remember that old football injury did you, you great ape!_ Tony thought maliciously remembering with some satisfaction Anderson being taking out of the final homecoming game of his senior year with a dislocated shoulder and torn rotator cuff.

Despite his personal contentment at the damage he seemed to have done to the three men, Tony appreciated he now found himself in a precarious situation. His back was now against the bar and the three stooges seemed to be in varying forms of readiness for the second round. Fate, however, seemed set on different ideals as the doorman and other bouncers within the club suddenly set upon the group. Amidst objections and complaints on both sides, the four men were ejected bodily from the clubs front door.

Charles Anderson dusted himself off, as Tony stood prepared for any of them to make a move.

"That's it DiNozzo, you're finished." Anderson spat, blood soaked spittle hitting the ground.

"Finished? I'm the one who's finished?" Tony sneered. "You can't imagine how much pain you've just brought on yourself Chucky-boy. This time we have evidence. Which if you will excuse me, I need to collect."

The anger that had festered in him drained away. He didn't need to deal with this dirt bag right now, and it wouldn't be a good idea for Tony to be the one to bring him in. He wouldn't be going anywhere, a BOLO and a no fly would see to that. Tony grinned lightly at the prospect of making Anderson sweat a bit. Besides, somewhere a street from here his friends needed him, and he needed them.

Turning away and beginning to reach for his credentials, Tony started to walk back towards the club. He did need to get Abby's bag for evidence though.

His back was turned for only a moment when a sudden roar from behind him was all the warning he got before 330 plus pounds of infuriated lobbyist ploughed into his back.

The weight of Anderson shunting into his back threw Tony to the curb, the left side of his torso connecting heavily with the concrete edge. A sickening crack and sudden flare of pain in his side brought stars to his eyes. _Ah hell_, there went at least one rib!

Bucking wildly to free himself from Anderson's grasp, Tony lurched to his feet and turned to face his attacker. Anderson knelt on one knee on the ground, his slicked back blonde hair and flopped forward into his eyes, a manic grimace on his face. Poised like the linebacker he once was, Anderson surged forward.

Bracing himself as best he could, Tony took the full force of Andersons attack at stomach height. The bigger man lifted the Agent fully from the ground and propelled both of them back into the alley between the club and the adjoining building. Using the semi fireman's' lift position he found himself in to his advantage, Tony let fly with a punch to his nemesis's kidney area to the desired effect. Anderson yelled and all but dropped Tony to the ground.

A small crowd that had followed the two men out of the bar gathered at the mouth of the alleyway watching the fight as it evolved. For Tony it was as much about keeping fight away from the onlookers as it was about finishing it. Skipping back a few steps, Tony tried to draw the bigger man a bit further into the alleyway away from the crowd. Tony cautiously eyed the enraged man.

A glint of metal flashed under the security light in the alley triggered by the mens' movements. Low and to the left of Anderson, it took Tony a moment for his brain to register that his opponent was holding a knife. A flash of recognition had Tony reaching for his belt. _Son of a bitch_! Anderson must have snatched his utility knife from its clip when he had lifted him. Instinctively Tony's hand flew to where his Sig usually rested in a futile gesture.

_Not good, not good, not good!_

As Tony quickly assessed his options Charles Anderson charged once more and took all but one of them away

Ah Hell!


	15. Chapter 14

**My sincerest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I didn't know it, but it would appear that my Muse has a fear of hospitals! Had the *worst* case of writers block! But had a good mentalaxtive recommended to me by Laine312 and XenaScully, so all is good and we are back on track… at least until I find out my Muse doesn't like courtrooms or something! ~ Ozzyols**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

The call had come just as she was pulling into her car bay at her apartment.

When McGee had blurted that Abby had been attacked and was being taken to Bethesda, Ziva did not think, only reacted. A small knot of worry formed in the base of her stomach as she spun her mini cooper around and headed out the way she had come.

Ziva appreciated the agility of her car more so that evening than she ever had before. A mad dash across the city and state lines was a lot easier when you had a responsive car. And despite its diminutive size, the Mini S had it where it needed it. Zipping through the relatively quiet late night streets of DC and Maryland her mind turned to the possibilities that awaited her at Bethesda.

McGee's message wasn't cryptic, but it wasn't exactly informative either. Ziva had spent most of her life relying that the accuracy in the information she received was the difference between life and death. While the same did not hold as true in her current role, lack of clarity and detail in what she was told irked her.

She could not blame McGee. It was likely he knew no more than she did and had told her only what he could. But as the saying went – A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Ziva had spent most of the trip to Bethesda running scenarios through her mind and coming up with the worst possible outcomes.

Never one to be an alarmist, Ziva calmed herself with rationality. Abby was being taken to hospital where she would receive whatever attention she required. Ziva worrying about what might be would do nothing to help either situation. What would happen would happen.

Pulling into the public car park, Ziva hastily fed a handful of coins into the ticket machine before heading towards the emergency entrance. She had barely gotten two steps into the waiting area when she heard her name called. Turning towards the voice, Ziva was greeted with the harried looking face of McGee.

"McGee!" Walking over to her partner, Ziva gently placed her hand on his arm in support. McGee looked awful, his face a pale and drawn. "What do we know?"

"Not much. I am waiting for Jimmy to come out of the ER to get more news."

"Palmer is in with Abby?" The astonishment in her voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah, he went in the Ambulance with her, I drove the car."

"You let Jimmy ride with her?" Ziva frowned. She would have bet good money that Tim would have been the one to go with the EMT's.

"He pointed out that if it came down to a choice of who was going to have to deal with Gibbs when he got here, it should probably be me."

"Good point. Speaking of Gibbs do you when he will get here?"

"He's here right now David. McGee, status?"

Both agents turned to see Gibbs and Ducky standing behind them.

"Hey Boss, they brought Abby in about fifteen minutes ago. EMT's on the scene couldn't bring her round. She's suffered cuts and contusions to the face and upper body. The Paramedic didn't want to take any chances as no one saw the attack and they didn't know if there had been any cervical damage so they put her on a back board and brace before the moved her." Tim shrugged. "That's the extent of it, I don't know any more. Palmer came in with her, he said he'd come out as soon as he knew something."

"Duck?" Gibbs glanced at his friend, the question unspoken.

"Right away Jethro. You'll know as soon as I know." Without further prompting the ME hurried across to the admissions desk, stopping only to speak briefly with the nurse on duty before being buzzed through into the emergency room proper.

"Did you get any information from people at the scene?" Gibbs asked a storm brewing behind his icy blue eyes.

Tim shook his head. "Everyone I spoke for the most part had arrived after Abby had been found. I spoke to a Kate Flowers, the teacher who found her, apparently at first she thought Abby was a girl who had just partied too hard and she'd passed out in the alleyway. Apparently Ms Flowers has a community minded spirit and went over to make sure everything was okay. That's when she saw the extent of Abby's injuries and called 911."

McGee swallowed, he knew what his Boss's feeling were when it came to apologies, but that didn't change the equation.

"Boss, I'm sorry… I should have been there. I should've never left her alone."

Gibbs regarded his agent with a piercing gaze. McGee tried in vain to read what was going on in the depth of those mesmerising orbs but failed dismally. He felt more like a small rodent caught in the stare of a king cobra than a seasoned field agent.

Gibbs held Tim's gaze for a few moments longer before blinking and looking away. McGee felt his legs turning to Jelly. He'd let the team down, both Gibbs and Tony had entrusted Abby's safety to him.

Sinking wordless into the utilitarian modelled plastic chair as the guilt gnawed at him, Tim raked a hand through his hair and watched silently as the others moved off to find seating off their own.

Tim really didn't know how long he'd been looking at his fingers clenching and unclenching between his knees. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours for all he knew or really cared. What did time always seem to skewer weirdly when all you really wanted was for it to act normally?

When the quiet cough of someone attempting to get attention came, Tim felt his body jerk violently in response – the sound reverberating around his head. It was like when you were just falling asleep and random noises sounded fifty times louder than they truly were. Looking up, McGee saw Palmer standing over at the entry to the waiting room.

A nervous glance towards the younger Agent was all Palmer allowed before following Dr Mallard's orders to the letter and presenting himself to Gibbs.

Jimmy wasn't scared of Gibbs; six years had built up a layer of calluses on his emotions helping him deal with the gruff Team Leader. But when Gibbs stood and set that piercing gaze firmly in his direction, Jimmy conceded one thing. Scare him? No… Intimidate the hell out of him… Oh God yes!

"What have you got Palmer?"

Jimmy licked his lips.

"She's still unconscious. Dr Mallard is in talking to the ER doctors now. They are going to be taking her up for x-rays and an MRI and CAT scan within the hour. Her vitals are strong and stable. Most of her injuries seem superficial at the moment and shouldn't require anything more than a couple of stitches. Dr Mallard said to tell you he'd be out as soon as they had the scans back with the full details." The young ME paused trying to remember the last thing Dr Mallard had said to tell Gibbs. Oh that was it. "and he said, don't… um… don't… worry."

_Don't worry?_ Jimmy couldn't believe he'd just said that to Gibbs of all people! That was like telling the tide not to come in. Jimmy instinctively cringed; hoping that Gibbs didn't see him as one of his team and slap him like Tony of McGee.

When no blow came Jimmy peaked open one eye, to find an almost bemused expression on Gibbs face.

"You're just doin' your job Palmer. Don't hit people for following orders. Can't say the same for your boss though."

Jimmy felt slightly guilty at the grin that seemed to creep onto his face.

Gibbs watched the reaction of the assistant ME and drew in a breath. _Don't worry_. What was Ducky thinking of? Of course he was going to worry. In fact all he could do now was wait and worry.

The time seemed to slow to an almost crawl as the three co-workers waited for news. The subdued group sat on the universally hard plastic chairs dotted around the waiting room. Every click of heel on linoleum, every squeak of wheel or swish of door had their eyes turn towards the noise, waiting, hoping for news about Abby. Bethesda on a Friday night was always going to be a busy place. Gibbs had just never truly appreciated how busy.

Gibbs ran his hand over a haggard face. Glancing up at the clock on the wall he noticed the time, 00:21. What a day.

"Jethro."

The Team Leader instantly looked up from the coffee cup at the sound of his name.

The appearance of Ducky at the edge of the carpet had an instant reaction on the team. Palmer and McGee leapt to their feet, the naked worry on their faces painfully obvious. Ziva's ascent was no less swift than her friends, but Ducky absently noted the calm fluidity behind the movement. Leroy Jethro Gibbs however, was a horse of a different colour. Tilting his head back to apparently drain the dregs of his coffee, the Team Leader sedately placed the disposable cup on the table beside his chair and stood.

"What do you know Duck?"

The ME gestured for the team to follow him over to a quiet area of the waiting room. Well as quiet as Bethesda was going to get on a Friday night.

"Dr Barton has had the results back from Radiology. Abigail's MRI and CT are inconclusive at this time. It appears that when she was attacked that she has either hit her head on a wall, or the ground. There is a hairline linear fracture radiating where the occipital and parietal suture. Obviously the greatest cause for concern at present will be the onset a subdural hematoma, and presently both the MRI and the CAT scan show some initial developmental signs but nothing concrete." Ducky raised his hands to fend off the expected barrage of questions. "As she has yet to regain consciousness, The Doctors are keeping her under observation and are moving her to ICU."

"ICU!" McGee yelped earning him an intense glare from both Ducky and Gibbs.

"It's just precautionary Timothy. In the event that a hematoma develops the best place she could be would be ICU."

"What other injuries Duck?" Jethro quizzed.

She has a suspected cracked radius, bruised ribs and some superficial bruising and grazes… The ME paused.

"Anything else?"

The unspoken question the Team Leader feared the answer to hung in the air between the two men.

"No, not the one's you are worried about Jethro. Besides her external physical injuries, Abigail appears to be…" he chose his words carefully, "…unscathed."

Flicking a glance towards Ziva, Ducky caught the tension flash through the young woman's body. The ME could only assume what nightmarish memories might be playing in the Probationary Agents mind.

"When can we see her?" McGee prompted, derailing Ducky's train of thought.

"That's what I was coming to tell you. A Dr Ross Fielding is taking over Abby's case; they are moving her to ICU as we speak. I've taken the liberty of having all of us added as authorised visitors. There is a small waiting room up on the floor of the ward. We can wait there.

The ride up to ICU was a silent one, each person lost in their own thoughts.

The waiting room that Ducky led them to was small but well appointed with a small self service coffee area tucked neatly into a corner. Unlike the utilitarian moulded plastic chairs of the main ER area, there were lounges and softly furnished chairs clustered in pod like configurations around the room, a door on the far side of the room held a plaque that indicated both bathroom and showering facilities for men and women.

This room was designed as a refuge, a sanctuary of sorts, somewhere where the families of patients in ICU could retreat to gather their thoughts and extricate themselves from the mechanics of the hospital without having to leave their loved ones.

As Jimmy, Ziva and McGee moved into the room, Gibbs placed a gently restraining hand on Ducky's forearm.

"What aren't you tell us Duck?"

The older man sized up his friend, pursing his lips together.

"Abby's injury has the potential to be life threatening yes, if it is not monitored closely and treated immediately. Some small subdural hematomas can be managed by careful monitoring until the body heals itself. Other small subdural hematomas can be managed by inserting a temporary small catheter through a hole drilled through the skull and sucking out the hematoma, but that is going to depend greatly on what happens over the next twenty four hours."

Gibbs held his friends gaze, Ducky still wasn't telling him the whole story, he was sure of it. As expected moments later the older man filled in the much needed blanks.

"She's suffered considerable bruising around the throat and there is evidence of inflammation of the larynx and trachea. The report from the EMT's had Abby not breathing and unresponsive when they arrived. Her eyes also show signs of petechial haemorrhaging. She was strangled Jethro. Some bastard tried to strangle Abigail.

Gibbs felt the familiar omens of vengeance begin to fizzle inside him. Tamping down his anger, Gibbs focused on pure logic. "We need access to her as soon as possible, and I need you to tell the staff not to touch her neck or hands. McGee!"

"Boss?"

"I need you to get back to the yard and grab a kit, Abby's may have evidence of her attacker on her.

"On it Boss." McGee nodded grabbing his coat and ducking out the door.

"Ducky…"

"No need to ask Jethro. I'm just sorry I didn't think of it sooner. I'll speak to the nurses. They will have access to the rape kits; their specimen jars will work in a pinch. If Abby put up a fight, we should be able to get some DNA from under her nails."

The ME hurried off, nearly colliding with a formidable looking Nurse in scrubs entering the room.

"Sorry Veronica."

"No problem Dr Mallard, that's him I suppose?" Veronica nodded towards Gibbs.

"Yes. I'd let him see her if I were you. He gets a bit testy when he's fobbed off."

"Mmhmmm…" Veronica agreed dryly. "Had a horse like that once. Nothin' worse than a testy pony. Fixed that pronto. We gelded him." Veronica arched an eyebrow towards Gibbs. "Didn't seem to have a issue after that."

Gibbs blinked, the nurse's brusque attitude at odds with what he had come to expect from an ICU nurse. Ducky merely grinned and walked away leaving his friend behind. Seeing Gibbs reaction Veronica smiled.

"Yeah, I know, not real appropriate given the circumstance, but Ducky said you had a way about you and that you needed the break. Guess he was right." She shrugged. "What I came to say was, do you want to see your girl?"

This time Gibbs arched an eyebrow.

The room Veronica led Gibbs to was tucked away at the end of the hall. Pushing back the privacy curtain the Nurse stood to one side to let the Agent through.

"Ah hell Abs! Why didn'tcha listen to me?"

Tilting his head to one side, quietly observing the unusually still form of his forensic scientist, Gibbs sighed. If it had been Tony, Ziva or even McGee lying there in that bed, at some level Gibbs would understand. It went with their jobs to be in danger. But not Abby, she was supposed to be a bundle of effervescent energy that could brighten your day just being in the same zip code. Not this pale still form lying attached to monitors in a hospital ICU.

Quietly walking over to her bedside, Gibbs looked down on the face of the girl who had come to mean so much in his life. Mottled bruises stood out stark against the white light above the head of the bed. He wanted to reach out and take her hand in his, but until McGee got back with the fingerprint kit, and Ducky organised for any DNA evidence to be removed from under her fingernails, all Gibbs could do was be there in case she woke up.

Settling himself in for the night, Gibbs pulled a chair up next to Abby's bed. Inside a room where time seemed to take on a truly arbitrary existence, seconds could be come minutes – or even life times, often with lives hanging in the balance a tick of the clock could mean the difference between life and death, so those in between snippets of time became all encompassing. Sat there watching over Abby's unconscious form, studying every bruise, every scrape, every injury done to her person, Gibbs got lost in those moments. He could have been sitting there for weeks for all he knew before a quiet voice at the door snapped him back to the here and now.

"Boss?"

Backlit by the hall light, McGee stood, investigators kit in hand, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

"C'mon on Tim. She's still out."

Hastily moving to the opposite side of the bed, McGee set the kit down on the end of the bed.

"I just spoke to Ducky. He said they had managed to get some scrapings from under Abby's fingernails. Looks like she did put up a bit of a fight, for what it was worth."

"Ducky was in here?"

Tim nodded. "He said you didn't notice them. 'Away with the faeries' was how he put it. He didn't think it was right to disturb you."

Gibbs snorted. Yeah, that sounded like Ducky.

"Boss, um… can you give me a hand?"

Gibbs looked over as McGee was gently trying to move Abby's head to apply the strip of _Kromekote_ paper to Abby's neck nearest the bruising.

"Boss, you know this might not work right? This type of transfer isn't guaranteed you know?"

"What are the odds?"

"For a usable print?" I'd say about fifty-fifty."

"Better than we've got now McGee."

Gibbs sat back and watched McGee work. Something was niggling at the back of his brain, but for the life of him he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Done Boss."

Scratching at his face, Gibbs started think what was next. "Ziva still out in the waiting room?"

"I think so Boss, she was when I came in."

There it was again, that niggle… something that was being said, or not said… Following McGee back out into the waiting room, three sets of eyes trained in on him. Gibbs frowned, there was something wrong with the picture in front of him, glancing at the room again, a stark realisation hit. Three sets of eyes! Ziva, Palmer & Ducky.

"Where the hell's DiNozzo?"

McGee looked up from studying the floor beneath his feet. He looked as drawn as Gibbs felt. The grey pallor on the young Agents face was only exacerbated by the harsh hospital lights.

"Sorry Boss?"

"DiNozzo, where is he?"

Tim looked around puzzled. "I… I, don't know Boss." He admitted finally. "I was supposed to call him when I heard anything. I forgot."

Gibbs had got McGee's frantic call around 2145, it was what now 0220, his Senior Field Agent should have been there hours ago.

"Where was he when you spoke to him last?"

"Don't know"

"Was he heading to Bethesda?"

"Don't know"

"Had he left the Yard?"

"Don't know"

Gibbs could feel his blood pressure rising. "True or False, if I went out into the parking lot and asked a stranger, I would know as much as I do now?" The hot shame on McGee's face spoke volumes. "That's what I thought. Find him!"

"On it Boss."

"Jethro, you know as well as I, Anthony would have a very good reason for not being here surely?" Ducky tried to placate his friend.

"He'd better." Gibbs knew his anger was irrational and probably misdirected. Tony wasn't the one responsible for Abby being in ICU, but he wasn't here and the primordial part of Gibbs brain needed someone to blame. To his intense shame, the need of the worry outstripped reason. "I'm going back in with her." He muttered. "Come and get me when you've found him, and tell him he'd better have a damn good excuse!" Gibbs stormed off leaving the stunned group of friends in his wake.

oXoXoXo

An hour later and Tony's cell still wasn't picking up.

A strange niggling fear crept into Ziva's mind. "McGee, have you checked any of the other hospitals?"

McGee looked at her like she had grown another head. "Ziva, Tony was the one who told me to bring Abby to Bethesda. Even he's not dumb enough to go to the wrong emergency room."

"No, I was not suggesting that. What I am suggesting is that we should check the other hospitals to see if they have an Anthony DiNozzo admitted? Ducky is correct, Tony would have a very good reason not to be here, and being a casualty himself would be one such good reason yes?"

Tim felt his face flush and cool almost simultaneously. He hadn't even stopped to consider that. He'd not really taken much notice at the time, but on reflection he did seem to recall hearing at least one horn while Tony was talking to him. What if in hurry to get to the scene or Bethesda Tony had been involved in an accident of his own?

"I'll start with GW if you want to start with Georgetown?" Ziva offered.

An hour later and neither agent had been able to find any trace of an Anthony D DiNozzo Jnr being admitted to any of the local hospitals.

"Thank heavens for small mercies" Ducky commented.

"But that doesn't rule out any of the morgues." Palmer added trying to be helpful.

Three pairs of eyes stared flatly back at the young assistant.

"Thank you Mr Palmer!"

"Sorry Dr Mallard."

McGee rolled his eyes as his cell rang to life with a blocked caller ID.

"Tim McGee."

"Probie it's me…"

"TONY! Where the…"

"Listen Probie," Tony interrupted, "I don't have a lot of time for this call. I need to speak to Gibbs, his cells going straight to voicemail.

"He's in with Abby."

"Can you get him?"

Tim looked towards the door of Abby's room. Ziva nodded, apparently understanding the request from the one sided conversation, nodded and headed into the darkened room. "Ziva's getting him now."

"Good."

"Tony where are you? I was expecting…" the phone was unceremoniously yanked from his hand by his Team Leader.

"DiNozzo, you've got twenty seconds." Gibbs stalked away from the group of friends to hold a relatively private conversation with his Senior Field Agent.

When Gibbs returned, Tim very much feared that he was going to have to be requisitioning a new phone, as Gibbs appears moments from hurling it at someone or something.

Holding the phone out to McGee, the younger agent snatched it back, his eyes never leaving his boss. The expression in his icy blue eyes made Tim shiver involuntarily.

"Ziva. I need you to go and bail out our Senior Field Agent from 1st District Police Station." Gibbs said through clenched teeth.

Ducky and Palmer's rose from the chairs they were sitting in.

"The Police Station?" Ducky asked.

"Yeah Duck! DiNozzo's got himself arrested for a bar-room brawl." The muscles in his jaw rippled so tightly Ducky feared that Gibbs would shatter his teeth. Rounding on Ziva he pointed at the former Mossad Assassin. "You go, you bail him out and you get his ass back here straight away, you got it?"

oXoXoXo

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><p><strong>AN - I promise the next chapter will a) be Tony based and b) be sooner rather than later! You continued feedback/reviews is always appreciated!**


	16. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone. Thanks for the awesome feedback on the story so far. It's really gratifying. Like I promised this chapter is all about the Tony. I will point out that yes, the details of what happened in alley fight are a bit light on, this is deliberate as I wanted to keep something back for the court scenes and other angsty bits - plus I is a known fact that people can experience short to memory fuzz in extreme emotional situations. Hope you are all winding down to a cracking weekend! ~ Ozzyols**

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Tony returned the receiver to the cradle momentarily resting his head against the top of the payphone. His stomach churned and his throat felt like he had swallowed glass. He'd have sooner wanted to walk through fire than lie to his boss; and yet somehow, he just had, sort of.

"DiNozzo?"

Turning at the sound of his name, Tony saw behind him a few feet away stood a burly looking Metro officer.

"Why Officer Krupke, fancy meetin' youse here." Tony grinned weakly imitating a thick New Jersey accent.

Tony had met Sergeant Dave Mackie years before on one of his first DC crime scenes after joining NCIS. The heavyset officer with his seemingly permanent after five stubble, Mackie was to be the walking embodiment of Fred Flintstone. With their paths crossing several times over the years Tony never passed up and opportunity to give Mackie a hard time over his Jersey accent, nicknaming him Officer Krupke after the character in West Side Story.

"Always the wiseacre DiNozzo." The aging Sergeant grinned looking the dishevelled agent up and down. "What t'hell have you got yourself into this time Ant'ny?" Mackie arched an eyebrow. Tony DiNozzo was the last person he expected to see sidling up to the payphone in the tombs. Eyeing off the young officer hovering at the sidelines waiting to escort Tony back to the holding cells Mackie waved him off.

"Ah, it's nothing, you don't want know Sarge." Tony sighed.

With twenty-two years on the force in New York and DC, Dave Mackie had learned to recognise bulldust in all its forms, and right now the young NCIS agent in front of him was covered in it.

"Don't kid a kidder DiNozzo." Mackie's keen eye watching the way DiNozzo was favouring his left side. "Next thing you're gonna tell me there ain't nothin' wrong with your ribs, and that's just tomato ketchup on your clothes?" Mackie arched his eyebrow as DiNozzo unconsciously fingered the drying red splodges on his clothing at the statement.

Gesturing for Tony to follow him back down the line towards the holding cells Mackie pondered what the NCIS agent was doing cooling his heels in the cells. Something wasn't kosher here. DiNozzo was a good guy, what the hell was he doing in Holding?

Glancing down so as that DiNozzo wouldn't see him trying to observe him, Mackie watch Tony out of the corner of his eye. DiNozzo's movements were stilted and sluggish, the discomfort of whatever beating he'd taken affecting his movements.

Stepping in front of Tony, Mackie crossed his arms.

"The Doc seen him yet?" Mackie called to the Rookie without taking his gaze from Tony. Tony raised his chin a few centimetres, the muscles of his jaw rippling.

"Yeah Sarge, just now. That's what took so long to move him down here." The kid answered as he moved over to unlock a cell door.

Glancing over his shoulder at the group of assorted drunks, druggies and other general bad-asses that were strewn around the cell, Mackie shook his head. That'd be like putting a bleeding man into a shark tank. Looking around, Mackie noticed further down the line two inert forms huddled in the corner of one of the cells.

"Who's in seventeen?"

"Couple of underage kids out on a bender."

Gesturing with his thumb, Mackie gave his orders to the Rookie. "We'll stick DiNozzo in here;" nodding towards the two kids sleeping their self-administered stupor off in the corner. "Don't think you really want to be in with bruisers tonight Ant'ny." Mackie opened the cell door and stepped to one side. As Tony moved past, he placed a gentle hand on Tony's forearm. "You got anyone?"

The expression on the young Agents face was heartbreaking

"Oh, I would think so. After that phone call I'm expecting the cavalry to ride in any moment now. That or the four horsemen of the apocalypse." The sheepish expression on DiNozzo's face as he walked into the cell was enough to tell Mackie whom the Agent was expecting.

"That bad?"

"And then some." Tony sighed as he lowered himself gingerly down onto the metal bench.

"Chin up kid. It'll come good." The veteran beat cop smiled as he shut the cell door and walked off absently humming the chorus from Officer Krupke.

Tony rested his head back onto the wall behind him. _It'll come good? Not frickin' likely_. Closing his eyes and replaying the last few hours Tony couldn't think how things could have gone much more wrong.

oXo

When Chuck Anderson had lunged at him brandishing his knife, Tony had done the best he could to try and disarm his former classmate. To say it was an unmitigated disaster would probably be the understatement of the year.

Tony had defended himself as best he could against the onslaught from the larger man, but the ferocity that Anderson came at him was almost inhuman.

He distinctly remembered grabbing at the arm that was holding the knife trying to break Chucks grip with little success. Unlike the incident at the bar, Tony lacked the element of surprise and this time Anderson's body weight was fully bearing down on him increasing resistance and pounds per square inch pressure. The best that Tony had been able to do was try and wrestle his aggravated opponent to the ground and disarm him.

At the beginning of the scuffle, Tony's only interest was subduing Charles Anderson, but as the altercation escalated Tony found himself combating every swipe of the knife with his fists and feet. Taking the offensive and hoping to win back the element of surprise Tony tried once more to retrieve ownership of his knife.

As the jeering and cat calls from the mouth of the alley escalated egging the fighters on, Tony had foolhardily glanced over his shoulder believing he had heard the wail of sirens in the distance. Anderson took the advantage and had lashed out violently with the knife, slicing along Tony's already abused ribs.

Sitting in the cell hours later Tony would realise that was the moment when something inside of him had snapped.

For over a quarter of a century Tony had avoided dealing with the bullying that he had suffered at his assailants hands, and now fuelled with history recent and old, Tony gave into those memories and had let his emotions rule him as he lunged for the knife himself.

The ironically funny thing was, being slashed with his own knife was pretty much the last thing that Tony coherently remembered until he glanced down and saw Anderson lying at his feet, a large deep red pool of blood oozing from a gaping hole in his chest.

Dazed and confused at how the wound in Anderson's thoracic cavity seemed to come out of nowhere, Tony had wiped his hand through over his head, a sticky wetness causing his hand to catch in his hair. Pulling his hand away and looking down at his bloody palm his brain frantically scrambled to put the pieces together. The shock of discovering the blood on his left hand escalated to panic as he lifted his right hand only to find it to was bloody, and gripping the equally bloodied handle of his knife.

oXo

Replaying the memory in his mind brought a rush of bile from the depths of his stomach to the back of his throat. Swallowing frantically trying not to disgorge what little he had in his stomach all over the cell floor, Tony knew what the scene would have looked like to the bystanders. Standing there in the middle of the alleyway, bloodied knife in one hand, a critically injured man at his feet and not fifteen feet away a crowd of a dozen or so witnesses. Two men enter, one man leaves! Tony rolled his eyes skyward. _Good one Tony, you've been arrested on assault charges and you're making Mad Max quotes!_

Arrested. The reality set in, there was no denying it. How could he have not been? So when a few moments later Tony had found himself facing two of DC's finest point their service weapons at him he offered no resistance.

It was an interesting experience being on the receiving end of an arrest. Not that he had made a habit of it… really… His brief interlude with Fornell and the ever-dapper 'Slacks' that first year Ziva had joined them didn't count as far as Tony was concerned. It wasn't an arrest if all they did was formally book you after you had already been locked up.

But the junk yard! Now that was a good old-fashioned metro bust; well security guard bust actually. Tony wasn't about to argue the finer points of arrest protocols with a armed guard shaking like a leaf and being ably backed up by close to a hundred pounds of snapping snarling canine!

Despite his current situation – or perhaps because of it, Tony found a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth at the memory. Poor McJailbait! McGee had been sweating bullets on that one.

Tony chuckled and instantly regretted it as the movement pulled at sutures in his side. Swearing as the pain lanced through his side, Tony gritted his teeth and breathed deeply.

Twenty-five stitches. If nothing else ever stayed with him about this night those twenty-five stitches always would.

Tony had complied completely with the DC cops at the scene. From dropping the weapon to assuming 'the position' as best his injured side would allow. Tony knew the drill – hell he'd yelled it at other people so many times in his career he'd found himself nearly yelling out the commands in unison with the cops. That would have just been embarrassing.

Within moments of the cops arriving Tony had heard the wail of sirens drawing steadily closer. As he had been lead towards the patrol car, Tony vaguely wondered exactly what state Anderson was in he honestly didn't even know if the guy was alive.

It was as if the emotional side of himself had been detached and sent to sit in the corner. He had felt nothing. He still did. Even sitting here in a cold cell Tony couldn't seem to break the icy grip that seemed to have taken hold of his feelings.

It was kind of nice in an odd way. Though it did have some downsides. Like for instance the seeming loss of time between being escorted from the alleyway to his arrival and processing at the 1st District station.

If Ducky had been there, Tony was sure he would come up with some explanation as to why he couldn't seem to keep hold of the memories that he knew were in his head somewhere.

By the time tony found himself in a stark white room being administered a local anaesthetic by the station doctor on call more and more things started falling into place. First of all was the extent of his injuries. The doctor had warned that Tony was likely to be out of commission for several days giving the stitches time to adhere. It seemed overall his injuries weren't sufficient to warrant a trip to the hospital. The bruising on Tony's body was colourful, painful, but not life threatening. The Doctor had signed off on his report and handed Tony over to the custody Sergeant.

The arrest warrant read, aggravated assault causing bodily harm. It had taken nearly an hour for the charges to be processed and Tony to be moved from custody down to the holding cells he found himself in now.

It had been decided that given Tony's standing in the community, his profession and his lack of criminal record, thank you boss, that a bench bail application wouldn't be required. All Tony had to do was pony up the required bond and he could get out of there. Unfortunately being a Friday night in one of the Districts busiest precincts getting the paper work together was going to take some time.

So there was nothing to do but sit, wait, and think.

Tony wanted to get out of there more than he had wanted pretty much anything in his life. His unexpected detour had taken him away from his objective in more than one way. Why the hell hadn't he been watching where he was going? If he had he would be with his friends worrying together about Abby rather than sitting alone in a cell worrying about her and worrying that he was soon going to resemble a Tex Avery cartoon character when his eyeballs popped out of his head after the slap to the back of his head he deserved from Gibbs was delivered!

Guilt wormed its way into Tony's mind a little deeper. He'd lied to Gibbs. We'll not 'lied' perhaps, but definitely deceived. Or had he?

Fact one. Gibbs knew he was going to a bar – true.

Fact two. He had gone to a bar – also true.

Fact three: He had told Gibbs that he had gotten into a fight at a bar – Ridiculously true.

Fact four: He had been arrested because of that fight – the stench of a semi conscious teenager making street pizza in the corner wafted passed Tony's nose, oh God yes true.

So he'd ticked all the boxes… He hadn't lied or even deceived Gibbs – everything he told him on the phone was true.

It was a shame that annoying small voice in the inner recesses of his mind didn't agree.

_Fact five: Gibb's isn't an idiot and he's gonna see right through all the previous facts – True to the nth degree._

_Fact six: Your grandkids are going to be born tasting Kiwi Boot Polish after the butt kicking Gibb's is going to give you!_

Tony told his little voice to shut up.

oXoXoXo

"Ziva David, NCIS. I am told you are holding one of our agents?"

From behind the front desk of the 1st District station duty officer Peter Ross raised his gaze straight up into the eyes of an exotically beautiful, yet faintly dangerous, looking young woman holding out her federal credentials.

"Name?"

"Anthony DiNozzo." The woman supplied.

"De-nose-oh?"

"Yes, big D, little I, big N, little Ozzo. It is spelt like it sounds." Frustration laced her voice. "Brought in tonight."

Scrolling through the charge sheets Ross soon found the offender the woman was asking after. "Yep, got him."

"I am here to arrange bail for him. Whom do I speak to?"

Ross consulted with the notes attached to the file and look back at the agent. "I just need to check your credentials again, sorry miss."

The young woman sighed and handed over a slim black leather wallet.

The desk sergeant looked at the badge and credentials. NCIS, the girl was telling the truth. He stared momentarily at her picture. Nobody had the right to have any ID photo look that good! It was the universal law of identification photographers to do try to do their utmost to make their subject look like crap. Agent David's photo looked like she had just had a shoot done for Vogue.

The sound of a throat being cleared pulled Ross's attention away from the photo and back to the real thing.

"Like what you see Officer… Ross" she purred, glancing at his name badge.

Heat flamed his cheeks. "Um… yes… thank you… Err… I mean, thank you for your credentials."

A faintly seductive twinkle formed in her eyes as she took the proffered documents back.

"You were going to tell me about the status of Agent DiNozzo yes?"

Gulping back the small lump forming in his throat, Ross nodded. "Yes. The Captain has reviewed Agent DiNozzo's case and is prepared at this time to release him on his own recognizance. They are doing up the paperwork now, if you want to take a seat it shouldn't be too long." Ross pointed towards a line of flat metal benches over to one side of the reception area.

Ziva nodded her thanks and walked over and sat down.

Emotions warred inside her. One the one hand she was glad that Tony was safe nothing untoward had happened to him. On the other she wanted to get her hands on him for being dumb enough to get into a bar fight. How old was he? Really? At his age? She sighed. It was senseless getting all hot and worried about it, it was done and anyway, Gibbs had prior claim to any reprimands for wanton stupidity over her. That was a meeting she would very much like to avoid. She doubted it would be pleasant for anyone involved. Reaching over Ziva snatched a dog-eared magazine for the bench next to her and started to flick through it.

Ziva was looking through the third magazine for the second time when the metallic click of a secure door sounded at the end of the room and the dishevelled semblance of Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stiffly walked out into the lobby.

His eyes darted around the room, obviously trying to see if he recognised anyone there. When his gaze fell on Ziva, she noticed a lightning fast flicker of emotions dart across his haggard looking features. Panic, Hope, Relief all seemed to war for space on his face.

Ziva said nothing, instead, rose gracefully to her feet and inclined her head towards him.

Some of the tensions seemed to easy from his face as he walked slowly across the room to meet her.

"Tony?"

He shook his head. "Not here. Let me get out of here."

Respecting his wishes, Ziva turned on her heel and walked out the automatic front doors of the precinct heading for her car. The answers would come soon enough.

"How pissed is he?" Tony asked as they walked away from the Precinct?

Ziva didn't have to ask who 'he' was.

She shrugged. "Well, I am not sure who he is more angry with – Palmer and McGee for taking Abby out, Abby herself for going out in the first place or…"

"Me" Tony stated simply.

"Yes"

"To be expected."

"About the only one he's not angry with, or he wasn't when I left the hospital, was Ducky. And I think that was mostly because he was giving us updates." Unlocking the door to the mini, Ziva slid into the drivers seat and buckled up her seat belt. "That however may have changed by the time we get back."

Tony snorted as he fumbled to clip the belt into place. "Well, when I get back I'm sure he'll forget all about the others."

"Why should he? It's not like you were looking to get in a fight on purpose. So why should he blame you?"

Tony stared straight ahead out the front window of the imported car.

His silence concerned Ziva.

When he didn't respond after a couple of minutes, Ziva shook her head and turned the engine of her car over. As she pulled away from the precinct parking lot Ziva wondered. _What was really going on?_

oXo

Ziva's erratic driving was going to be a problem Tony realised moments after they had moved off.

Normally he would use his right hand to grip the grab handle above the passenger door for stability as Ziva threw the car around corners and weaved her way through traffic. But now, with his left side bandaged up protecting the recently stitched four inch gash running around the left side of his rib cage, Tony would need that hand to support the injury, and he needed to do it without Ziva's knowledge – easier said than done.

He had compromised by surreptitiously sliding his right hand beneath his jacket and grasping the injured area to apply pressure. Then using his left bicep he effectively pinned his right hand in place, while gripping the front of the car seat for grim death. To counteract the fact he didn't have the benefit of the grab handle, Tony compensated by spreading his knees as wide as the foot well in Ziva's mini would allow, bracing each knee against the console and the door respectively. If he kept himself ridged and anticipated when sudden movements were going to occur (he would have better luck at anticipating the state lottery) he might, just might, manage to get through the ride with Ziva being none the wiser.

"Ahabal!" Ziva spat as she swerved around a Ford Explorer executing a completely _legal_ turn in front of her mini.

"Gah!" Tony wheezed at the sudden movement, partially in fear of his life, partially in response to the sudden stabbing pain in his left hand side. The stabbing quickly transformed into a fierce burning sensation that Tony fought to ignore.

Beside him, Ziva sniggered. "Stop being such a baby Tony, I missed him by a mile."

Expecting a caustic response and getting none, Ziva cast a glance across to her suddenly silent partner, and was puzzled at the expression on his face.

Certainly her driving had given rise to Tony looking pale – at times even green, but his pallor went beyond the normal look of teeth gritting horror she usually experienced when she drove. In the intermittent flash of street lights and other headlights Ziva could see fine beads of sweat forming on Tony's brow. His teeth were clenched, but not in frustration or fear… they were clenched tight like someone in pain would.

Casting her mind back to when he'd first walked out through the door, she had been alarmed at the sight of the Senior Field Agent. He'd certainly been in a fight of some sort; that much was apparent.

The former Mossad Officer had immediately noticed the scrapes on her partner's knuckles, the light bruising around his left eye, the general mussed look of his apparel, the muddy patches dotting his dark trousers and jacket. The collar of his navy blue polo had been ripped at some point and half dangled off the body of the shirt. As Gibbs would say… he looked like crap!

But that still didn't explain why he looked like the spirit of one of his ancestors had suddenly dropped in for a visit. Her attention focused on her partner, Ziva failed to notice the garbage truck pulling out of an alley until it was nearly too late.

"ZIVA LOOK OUT!" Tony bellowed.

Snapping her eyes back to the road, Ziva performed a perfect emergency stop inches from back of the Truck.

Inertia thrust the two occupants of the Mini forward in their seats, their bodies suddenly becoming expedientially heavier than they had been a few seconds earlier. The locking reels in the seatbelt mechanism did their job and stopped Tony and Ziva being ejected from their seats through the front windshield.

Ziva knew that the stop had been an abrupt one, and the bite of the seatbelt was probably going to leave a red mark on her neck. But the shock of the sudden stop was nothing compared to the sudden hiss of intense pain that issued from Tony's lips.

Redirecting her attention back to her passenger, Ziva was alarmed to see Tony practically doubled over clutching at his left hand side his breathing quick and shallow.

"Tony?"

"I'm fine" he hissed between breaths.

"I would beg to differ." She retorted. "What is going on?" She reached towards his midsection intent on finding out what was afflicting her friend.

Tony instinctively pulled himself towards the right of the seat away from Ziva. The movement exposed a gap between the seatbelt clip and his side allowing his jacket to fall away. Ziva stared in horror at what she saw beneath the flap of material. The pale grey lining of Tony's jacket was stained a deep russet. Blood! And a good amount of it.

Tony continued to protect his side with both of his hands. Ziva's gaze lifted from the lining up to meet Tony's. Defiance and distrust haunted them.

"You want to tell me what happened Tony?"

"No"

"Well I think you should."

"Leave it Ziva"

"Tony! That's blood!"

"Thank you for point out the obvious Zee-Vah!" he winced moving his hand away from his side.

Before he could react, Ziva dived in, her nimble fingers yanking at the polo shirt. It felt crusty under her hand and moved more than she was expecting. White cloth was visible through the gash in the material. "Elohim adirim" she breathed. Absently her mind recognised that the crusty feeling she had felt was dried blood. Blinking to clear her head, Ziva looked more closely and what she had first assumed was mud on Tony's clothes. He was covered in blood. The next question was; how much was his?

oXo

The pain lancing through Tony's side as a result of Ziva's vehicular antics eased a little as he adjusted his seat. The next actions of the probationary officer caught him off guard, and given his inability to wrestle her hands away from poking around that side of the body, Tony capitulated and drew in several deep breathes, trying to release the pain.

History with injury had taught him that one of the best ways to deal with pain was to breathe through it. Of course that was not a hell of a lot of good when the injured area was the ribcage to start with. After two abortive breathes Tony though better of it and focused at that moment on just not passing out. DiNozzo's didn't pass out! _Keep saying that Anthony, you might even begin to believe it!_ He scoffed mentally.

Buzzing in his ears and a faint nauseas feeling in the pit of his stomach was enough warning for the Senior Field Agent. Flinging the passenger door open just in time, Tony heaved and emptied what meagre remains were in his stomach onto the asphalt.

"I'm taking you to a hospital." Ziva stated dryly as Tony eased back into his seat and closed his door, willing his rebellious stomach to settle.

"No…"

"You do not have a choice Tony. I was taking you to a hospital anyway, Gibbs orders… he seemed to think that Abby would like you to be there."

"Abby!"

"You had forgotten her, yes?"

Tony gritted his teeth. Of course he hadn't forgotten her. He hadn't forgotten that she had been attacked; he hadn't forgotten what he had done after learning about it, or what the ramifications were likely to be. But he had forgotten to ask how she was. Mentally slapping himself, Tony looked in Ziva's direction. "How is she?"

"Unconscious" it was a simple statement of fact.

Tony bit the inside of his cheek until he felt the telltale tang of blood.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough. Not as bad as you apparently."

"I don't want to talk about it Ziva. Just drive."

The idling of the Mini stopped as Ziva turned off the ignition.

"That alone tells me all I need to know. What is going on Tony?"

Tony gritted his teeth harder.

"I said, nothing."

Ziva scoffed. "It is not nothing Tony. It is something. Bandages around your chest, is something. Blood all over your clothes, is something. A slash in your shirt, is definitely something. You told Gibbs you had been arrested for a fight, yes? Well, where I come from, when a fight results in someone looking like this" she gestured towards her partner, "it is more than just a bunch up!"

"The term is punch up – not bunch up."

"Whatever it is Tony, it is more than you are letting on."

Tony slowly clenched and unclenched his fists; doggedly avoiding meeting the stare that he knew Ziva was giving him.

"He hurt her." He stated simply, as if that explained everything. "Twice."

Beside him, Tony heard Ziva sigh.

"Charles Anderson?"

Tony could only nod mutely.

"How bad?" Ziva asked, echoing Tony's earlier question.

"Bad enough", this time it was Tony's time to relive the immediate past. He reached into his left jacket pocket and drew out a folded slip of paper and handed it over to Ziva, still resolutely refusing to meet her eye to eye. At the moment he just couldn't face it. He heard the paper unfold. Silence filled the car momentarily.

"Aggravated assault causing bodily harm?" Ziva could not keep the incredulity out of her voice. "Where is Anderson now?"

"Don't know. In a hospital somewhere I guess. They didn't exactly fill me in on the details. Probably having surgery."

"Surgery? Tony, what is going on?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't wanna talk about it Ziva. Not here. Not now. Just do me a favour and do what Gibbs told you to do. Things'll come out soon enough I guess."

This time he met her eyes. He needed her to understand how badly he wanted her to let the subject drop.

Opening her mouth to respond, Ziva aborted her action. In the dim interior light she could see the hints of Tony's unspoken plea. _Pick your battles wisely_, her father used to say to her. This was not the time or place for a battle. Ziva knew as well as Tony, that anything she would ask would only need to be repeated when they got to Bethesda. Gibbs would not be as willing to back down from a discussion than she was. Tony would tell them, in his time – or failing that, in Gibbs time.

"Very well." The engine thrummed to life as Ziva started the ignition once more.

Mindful of any pain Tony might be experiencing, physical, mental or emotional, Ziva ensured that the remainder of the journey was silent, and for the first time in a long time – sedate.

oXoXoXo


	17. Chapter 16

**I have a couple of days off so I am going to try and get some serious typing done with my open stories. I really appreciate you guys who are coming along for the ride with me. Your support is really really appreciated given my recent circumstances. I hope I don't disappoint. Ozzyols **

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><p>oXoXoXo<p>

Despite the fact it was the wee small hours of the morning the parking at Bethesda was still at a premium. Circling the lot Ziva finally managed to find a bay relatively close to the ER entrance in D-Lot. Moving as a unit, Ziva and Tony crossed the short intervening distance in silence. As the passed beneath the ER porch, Ziva felt a staying hand on her upper arm. Turning, she faced Tony, his face resolute.

"They can't know Ziva." He said without explanation.

"You have to tell him Tony." Ziva countered. Neither agent needed clarification on who 'he' was.

"I know. I will. Just not right now. Gibbs'll find out soon enough."

Ziva reached up and gently placed her palm on Tony's face. "Okay."

Doing his jacket up to hide the raggedy edge of his shirt, Tony drew himself up to his full height, and nodded towards the ER foyer. "Shall we?"

Ziva lead Tony through the warren that made up Bethesda until they arrived at intensive care.

"ICU? Ziva you didn't tell me she was in ICU?"

"I did not want to alarm you." The former Mossad Officer shrugged. "Dr Fielding assured us that it is purely for observation purposes. As soon as Abby regains consciousness, assuming there are no other… complications… she will be moved to a private ward."

Tony ground his teeth. He didn't like the idea of Abby being in ICU, even for observation.

Flicking their badges at the nurse's station in ICU, Ziva and Tony moved through the ward until they came room 221. The curtains of the glass wall were closed, the only light from the room apparently radiating from the illuminated panel behind the bed. Swallowing deeply, Tony reached forward and quietly moved the privacy curtain at the door aside and stepped into the room. At his back he could feel the warmth of body heat as Ziva stood directly behind him.

His eyes scanned the room. Their entry had been apparently unnoticed.

Before him he saw a bed illuminated in a white glow, Abby's still form lying in the centre of the bed. Flanking her on either side, Tony could make out the silhouettes of Gibbs and McGee to her left, Ducky and Palmer to her right. The four men seemingly sentinels watching over a sleeping… well… fairy tale princess: A Gothic fairy tale Princess granted, but a Princess none the less. Tony reflexively swallowed, his adams-apple bobbing up and down as he tried to clear the tightness forming in his throat. He should have been there! He should have taken that damned call from McGee. If he'd taken it then he might've been able to stall them going to the club until he was back in DC, then he would've been with them and Abby wouldn't've needed to step outside to be able to hear the call, his call. This was his fault.

"Come in or shut the curtain DiNozzo." Gibbs said, without turning.

The corner of Tony's mouth twitched. Trust the Boss to know they'd arrived.

"My cologne too heavy Boss?" Tony joked quietly, trying to keep the calm before the storm.

Gibbs shot a look over his shoulder. "No, your breathing."

Behind him, Ziva closed the curtain.

"How is she?" Tony asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Ask her y'self DiNozzo." Gibbs shrugged, his voice as icy as his glare.

"Hey Tony." A rough quiet voice said from the bed.

Biting his lower lip to prevent himself from verbalising the lump at the back of his throat, Tony stepped deeper into the room. Coming to a halt at the end of the bed, Tony fought to keep the guilt and horror off his face. The nurses had obviously removed all traces of Abby's ever present make up and with the black kohl and dark lipstick gone, Tony was stunned how much paler his friend looked.

The muted fluorescent light or the ugly bruising down the side of her face and around her neck didn't help the pallor of her skin. Someone had wrapped a lightweight bandage around her head stark evidence that something fairly serious had occurred. A memory, years old, flashed in his mind, again proving that no matter the seriousness of a situation, he could always rely on his brain to trawl up something wildly inappropriate at just the right moment. It was when Kate was still with them. They'd a case and Kate had volunteered to help Abby out in her lab. True to the romantically bizarre mind that governed her life, Abby had recycled scrubs hats for Kate and herself. Kate's was dotted with little coloured flowers, while Abby proudly wore her skull and crossbones one with plait holes as standard.

Now more than half a decade later, lying there, her head wrapped in gauze, with her raven dark hair sticking out the top, Tony had brought the image to his mind, and allowed himself a brief smile.

"Hey Abs."

He moved deeper into semi-darkened room so that the light from Abby's bed now also illuminated him as well.

A wobbly grin formed on his friends face. "You're all scruffy."

Tony returned the smile with his own genuine one. "Hey you know I like to strut my scruff."

Okay, the joke was lame, even by his standards, but he wanted to divert attention away from his appearance as much as possible.

"You didn't come and meet us." It wasn't a question.

Tony fought himself as the unintentional verbal barb dug deeply into his heart. _No,__he__hadn__'__t,__and__look__what__had__happened_.

"I'm sorry Abs, I should've been there, I just got… tied up with some stuff."

"S'alright." She smiled. "You're here now."

Edging past McGee Tony took Abby's hand in his, "You gave us a scare Abs… don't be doing that again okay?"

"Okay." Abby peered slightly blurrily up at Tony who was steadfastly ignoring the pair of icy blue eyes boring into the back of his neck. "Whoa… you really ARE scruffy tonight! I love the look, but it's a bit extreme even for you Tony. You're normally so chic." A sly little smile formed on the forensic scientists face. "You could always ask Timmy for some pointers."

"What and end up looking like McTarget over there?" Tony scoffed, and instantly regretted it as McGee reacted by digging his elbow into Tony's unprotected left side.

"Hey!"

It wasn't McGee's fault, Tony reminded himself later. Tim didn't know what lurked under Tony's jacket. They had joked around and engaged in horseplay so many times in the past, that a quick elbow to the ribs in retaliation to Tony's comment was almost to be expected. The stars that Tony saw flash before his eyes, as the Probie's elbow connected with his freshly stitched wounds, was not.

Tony let out and explosive whoosh and gasped, trying once again in vain, to try to breathe through the jarring pain.

"Anthony?"

"I'm good Ducky" Tony wheezed. "McSchwarzenegger just caught me off guard." Tony adjusted his carriage trying to downplay the situation. "Ribs are a bit tender. The other bloke must've landed a lucky punch I guess."

"Really Tony, I thought you of all people would have avoided the pugilistic exploits! Don't you get enough fisty cuffs in your day job?"

"It wasn't really my choice Ducky". A plan was forming quickly in Tony's mind. Tony knew his reputation preceded him. Faced with real injury, Tony down played his condition. Get a minor paper cut; and the world was his stage. If he milked this 'injury' for all it was worth, he might be able to misdirect any scrutiny for a little while longer. At least until he could get home. . Tony winced exaggeratedly, "I should probably find somewhere to lie down".

"Aww Tony, you could lay down next to me." Abby smiled reaching her arms out to hug her friend.

Tony reacted on impulse, a Pavlovian response to a given impetus. Hugs from Abby where not to be declined. Leaning forward he felt the warm embrace of her arms around his upper body, her right hand snaking up to rest on the back of his neck. He felt her hand run through his hair once… and stop.

_Oh boy!_

Her body tensed and she pulled herself back from him; her green eyes wide.

"Tony. Why are you covered in blood?"

oXo

Gibbs head snapped up at his forensic scientists startled exclamation. Looking over his senior field agents shoulder he could see Abby holding out her hand, a dried reddish-brown mass smeared on her fingers. He blinked; it was blood. Instinctively Gibbs stepped forward effectively pinning Tony between the side of the bed and his own body, pushing the younger mans head forward slightly, his calloused fingers quickly examining the back of DiNozzo's head to find where the blood could have come from.

Sure, Tony had looked better; Gibbs couldn't help but notice the bruising around Tony's jaw and other indicators that the agent had been in the altercation that had landed him at the precinct when he had first walked into the hospital room. But apart from the grazed knuckles Gibbs hadn't seen any other traces of blood.

"Hey!" DiNozzo objected, trying to shrug off the older man.

Satisfied that there were no lacerations to Tony's head, Gibbs looked for other indicators. Moving the jacket collar aside Gibbs noticed the torn collar of the shirt. It too seemed to be tacky with semi dried blood.

_What the hell?_

"Duck." Gibbs gestured for the ME to join him on the other side of the bed.

"Are ya finished?" Tony snapped, slapping away Gibbs hand and trying to turn around only to find himself flanked by the three other men in the room.

"You've got something you're not tellin' us DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, a nagging suspicion forming in the Former Marines gut.

"Boss?"

The slightly incredulous 'who me' expression on Tony's face didn't fool Gibbs – he'd seen it too often. Meeting his gaze with calm patience, Gibbs waited.

The silence was all consuming.

Tony blinked first. "Okay, so it was a little more than a barroom bust up."

"How much more?"

Tony avoided his gaze and mumbled something.

"What was that DiNozzo?"

"Rule sixteen" Tony's voice was little more than a whisper as he sat down on the edge of Abby's bed.

"If someone thinks they have the upper hand… break it."

"Who had the upper hand Anthony?" Duck asked, placing a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder.

Guilt riddled the former Cops face as he automatically flicked a glance over his left shoulder at his gothic friend.

"Oh no. Tony, you didn't?" Abby breathed. "You went after him didn't you?"

Tony lowered his head and studied the linoleum under his feet, not wanting to meet his friends eyes. Abby sat forward in her bed and punched Tony in shoulder. "Didn't you?"

"Ow!" Tony winced. "Alright already. Yes. Yes I found him. The arrogant bastard as strolling down into a bar in K Street, laughing. He still had your bag in his hands Abs and he was two blocks from the bar you were at. That's how I knew what'd happened."

"What happened DiNozzo?" Gibbs pushed.

The scrutiny was getting under Tony's skin. Gibbs had seen him face down the FBI and assorted badasses, hell Tony would happily face off against trained assassins – and he had, but this attention might turn out to be more than DiNozzo was expecting.

As if on cue, Tony jerked to his feet and shouldered his way passed McGee and Palmer.

"I found him, I took him aside and we had a chat. What more do you want to know?"

"How you got all the blood on you would be a start" McGee shrugged.

"And why you are favouring your left hand side Tony?" Palmer added.

"And exactly what you were arrested for?" Ducky concluded.

Tony's eyes flicked to each speaker, finally coming to rest on the anxious, battered, face of one of his best friends.

"Tell them Tony." The agent turned his head to see Ziva leaning against the doorframe. "You said yourself, they will find out eventually. Better here and now yes?"

"Tony, please, you're starting to scare me…" Abby's voice was small, almost child like; a single tear running down her cheek.

Tony's heart constricted at the sight of his friend in tears. "Don't cry Abs!"

"Well tell us what happened then Tony!"

Sighing Tony returned to Abby's side and took her hand as he sat down in a hospital standard issue plastic chair. "When I found him, I landed a punch. Next thing we're outside and he's slammed me into the curb like he thinks he's John Cena or something. We get up, I try and make a move and he charged me, we scuffled, he goes down, the cops are called. That's it." And it was, after a fashion. "You want a drink Abs?" Tony deflected, reaching out and picking up the glass and water jug from beside Abby's bed. As he handed the water to his friend Tony's eyes met Gibbs.

Tony eyed his boss's questioning stare. Tony knew that Gibbs was never going to go for it, but given he'd already noticed Abby's heart rate monitor starting to increase he didn't want escalate her worry any further, so a quick ride on the DiNozzo Dodgems would hopefully distract her from the more obvious issues. Gibbs would understand.

It was a shame then that McGee and Ziva weren't so astute!

"That doesn't explain the blood Tony?" McGee reminded them.

"I hit him in the nose, okay McGee." Tony hoped he sounded suitably menacing and that McClarkKent would get the message.

"Wouldn't explain how you got it in your hair..."

McGee was like a dog with a bone on this. "Probie!" Tony snapped, lurching to his feet, wincing as his stitches pulled under his coat.

"Or that…"

Tony hissed and lowered himself back into the chair. "I told you before, he took me to the curb, I got a gutter edge to the ribs."

"Was that before or after he sliced you in the ribs with the knife?" Ziva asked coolly.

With the exception of the heart rate monitors beeping, the silence that filled the room was all pervading.

Six sets of eyes were focused on Ziva, four sets held astonished disbelief, one set cool observation, and the last set held murder – plain and simple.

Tony was trying to work out if it was even possible for him to silence Ziva, prevent her from saying anything else that would put him deeper in it than he already was, that he didn't notice Abby's horrified expression turn towards him. The first he was aware she was taking an interest in his person was when he felt her hands sliding inside his coat and heard the incessant beeping of the ECG change suddenly to a faster more erratic signature.

Ducky reacted first, moving quickly to Abby's bedside to stand almost on top of Tony.

"Abigail!" His voice was calm, yet authoritative. "You need to calm down."

"No, no no no no no no…" Abby stammered, her deft fingers delicately moving around Tony's torso.

Tony glanced down, momentarily stupefied by Ziva's thoughtless comment and Abby's intense reaction to see that the forensic scientist had pulled back both his jacket and his shirt to reveal the stark white hospital gauze protecting his suture sites.

The beeping of the ECG increased to a rapid staccato as Abby's breathing pattern became more panicked.

"Abby, you've gotta calm down." Tony pleaded, his own fears paling into insignificance.

"Tony… you're… hurt…" Abby's breaths were short, each word bitten off unexpectedly.

Tony flashed back to a memory six years past… his own breath struggling, the stress of trying to form words when his lungs wouldn't allow it. Tony could feel his own heart rate increasing. The wail of the ECG alarm was suddenly coupled by the hiss of a curtain being drawn back and a woman in hospital scrubs storming into the room.

"Who the hell let all of you people in here?" she snapped, all but shouldering her way through to Abby's bedside. With firm yet gentle hands, the nurse lowered Abby back onto the bed. "Abigail, honey, your pulse is too erratic, we need you to calm down." She reached up and pulled an oxygen mask of the unit behind Abby's head and slipped it over the girls face.

"No, Tony…. He's…. No…" the half mumbled gasps tore at Tony's heart.

"Whoever Tony is, he's going to be fine, but you won't be if you don't settle down. I'm going to give you something to help relax you okay?"

Abby's eyes widened as she shook her head and tried to raise the arm that had the IV in it. The nurse obviously had dealt with recalcitrant patients before and was far quicker off the mark than most people in the room gave her credit for. Before Abby could really react, the nurse had withdrawn the needle from the IV and was adjusting the flow metre. Abby made one final furtive attempt at waving her off before the drugs started doing their job and slipped the injured woman into an induced sleep.

As Abby's heart rate returned to normal, the business-like nurse turned on all of them.

"Dr Mallard!" her glare fell on the ME. "I told you that no more than three people could be in this room at any given time – and that's pushing mine and the hospitals good graces to the very extreme limit. So imagine my surprise to find five of y'all in here!"

"Ah, yes, Veronica m'dear."

"Don't you Veronica m'dear me Doctor! I've been in this game for thirty-five years."

Ducky looked suitably chastised at the formidable woman's expression. "My apologies. It was a mistake that won't happen again. It's just that Abigail is very special to all of us and Tony over there hadn't had a chance to see she was okay." Ducky pointed to Tony's chair.

"Who's Tony?"

Turning to face a now empty chair Gibbs swore.

"Where the hell's DiNozzo gone now?"


End file.
